When someone broke my heart, One never knew one was sitting in my heart, I am not picking broken pieces of my heart, I am picking pieces of someone, Shall I succeed in joining the pieces, I think I shall, But the spots of the joints, Will make the doll ugly, And the doll would not like to see herself, In a mirror any more.
BROKEN GLASS Standing here in front of me Are many pieces before me Looking down all I see Are different colored pieces Of what was me Broken, shattered and scattered Use to resemble me The glass I see before me
A shimmer of light in the darkness of my thoughts, the rare moment that the grey skies clear away and I see my surroundings exactly how I should, these briefs moments serve as a testament for my survival, Bitter and
The child was trembling inside you: eliminated, revived, walking past an explosion on the extra edge. The dash was stabbing. And without hands trying to open the crypt of forefathers. Things were not happning as you dreamed of tomorrow. The
Full of ooh! Full of pain. There’s much from life, we can gain. But pouring water to the drought There’s everyone, even a team gets out, Falling short of the crease to breathe into the jive-life-breeze. There’s weak, there’s sick,