Yearling
poem
I am a pitched fever, Anticipating my role. Dozens of ancestors, My heart they stole. Nothing lasts forever, Except my sorry soul. I sat beside the water, Filled the empty hole. Filled it with honor, Standing on the shoal. Yearling of yesteryear, That remembered foal. Nothing lasts forever, Except my sorry soul.
Do you consider meter in your poetry? This poem is primarily hexameter, 6 beats or syllables per line. "Except my sorry soul" sets the pace.
But sometimes it veers to 5 or 7. When one goes away from the recurring meter it produces a slightly jarring or even an arresting effect in the reader. Like a drummer changing the beat mid tempo. If it's intentional, all well and good. You want that effect. If not, the tempo needs consideration.
The old poets used tricks like apostrophes to plug into a word intentionally missing a syllable to keep the meter regular, or conversely, using that apostrophe as an accent mark to indicate a syllable normally unaccented should be accented.
OTOH if the line comes up short, an apt one or two syllable word could be added. "My heart they stole." 4 syllables (sounds abrupt) "My heart they surely stole" would keep w/ the 6 beat flow. Again, if that's what you want.
If you're already aware of this issue, please forgive my pedantry. I don't wish to intrude unnecessarily. But if you haven't been schooled, consider tightening or stretching the tempo at times to afford the reader more continuous pleasure.