One poem that always gets me right in the heart is 'When You Are Old' by W.B. Yeats. It’s this achingly beautiful piece where the speaker addresses a lover who didn’t choose him, imagining her in old age reminiscing about what could’ve been. The lines 'But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, / And loved the sorrows of your changing face' just wreck me—it’s so full of quiet, unrequited longing. Yeats wrote it for Maud Gonne, a woman he loved for decades but who never returned his feelings, and you can feel every ounce of that yearning.
Then there’s 'Funeral Blues' by W.H. Auden, which cranks the devastation up to eleven. 'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone'—it’s like the entire world should mourn because this love is gone. I first heard it in 'Four Weddings and a Funeral,' and it ruined me. The raw, hyperbolic grief feels so real, especially when he writes, 'He was my North, my South, my East and West.' It’s not subtle, but damn, it hits hard.