At the time it shatters,
the tragedy begins.
Broken and defeated,
it lies in utter ruin.
It is not the heart.
It is the mind.
My pieces may lie scattered,
discarded and many.
But while I am broken,
some value remains.
To repair, to mend
is the best course.
No sum of my parts,
whether whole or broken,
can ever measure me.
Save what can be salvaged,
discard what is lost,
to face remainder of days
with all I have.
A really interesting piece! I hope that you're keeping well and still writing! 😊
So inspiring. Great words! A really top poem! I like!
Doors are still closed. Loved it! There is comfort in music. Specially when you want to retire from
Eerily enticing!
I cant find you in my reader i have to go check on your post thru my stat
Took a while to fully comprehend your full meaning here. Hurry back, this space has turned into a vo
I love this!! So true :) I have missed your writing, my "reader" doesn't show me the people I follow
Ah yes, the silence With all its traces.. :)
DoubleU = W 