Art Expressing Your Inexpressible

One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

There are a lot of things in life you don't mind losing. It may sting a little, or annoy you by it's factless disappearance, but you quickly move on. Yet every so often you lose something meaningful, something you know you'll miss dearly. But what can you do? You are forced--you must--shrug it off as if it was the most meaningless piece of thread. Yet really, how easy is it to master?