Friday, June 20, 2014

Broken


Short of words may be my breath
When it crossed through me white
I knew it all way around didn’t I
But never let my spirits row down

Thought to be a winner there
Wearing my poker face all time
Never counted the tears behind the eye
Those run down while I smiled

Felt the legs failing to bear it all
Falling to the earth to take the heat
The moment of truth, too much to hold
To hear, to hold and to pull you back

I see the cracks on the glass d├ęcor
Splitting lives and dreams all around
Unsure of which broken piece of the lot
Should I claim or own up this day

Wished it was none but forged
With my eyes and ears shut to the skies
It is there, as dark as the night shows                                       
Now can I have the best story to move on?