Shattered,
not scattered.
A weak frame
still holds
me together.
Keeps me
from falling
to pieces
upon the floor.
I find
no glazier to
call to
re-install
the windows
of my brittle
heart.
Only the
heat
of love
renewed,
can repair
the broken
pieces of
a weakened
love,
not yet
fallen to
to floor.
A contest entry
- Shatter by CarolDesjarlais.
525 points, ended April 30, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Love the glass metaphor...nciely done, thank you for entering it.
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Oh you can touch the sadness in this, but this kind of poem would do more with a different form to the words, perhaps some couplets (2 lines and then one powerful one on it's own and perhaps a final stanza of a three or four. Just an opinion.
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have to look at it tomorrow which is already here.
This evening I suppose. smile. work comes early. Im yawning.
time to go.
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