Fragments of heart

 

Shards of red

adorn the floor.

Scattered, torn,

not beating anymore.

Nothing more

than ripped pieces

of a jigsaw,

where the edges

have been destroyed

and don't connect like before.

 

Surrounded by ashes.

Burnt out reminders,

desire and passion's

stubbed out fires.

They once burned so bright

but then were doused

by the waters of insight.

 

These fragments

once lived

inside of me.

Now a gaping hole

for all to see,

a wound,

stitched up hastily

with papier-mâché

and strands

of memory.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle