Sunday, June 3, 2018

Broken Things


We are fragile creatures.
Looking for love in a lifetime of 80 years.
And the locked door meant only passion or crying.
Mom, Throwing things across the room didn't block out the screams.
And when the scale broke, a piece of paper was the fate of everything.
Dad don't blame yourself.
Yet all we are left with now is a room full of broken things. 

M.A.A 

No comments:

Post a Comment