Broken

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  • Lost Love

    Broken

    Withering beyond repair
    I sit in my room alone.
    The wind howling without care
    keeps me awake at night.

    I've waited for you
    to come back into my arms.
    But like any hue
    you've faded from sight.

    Why? Why did you go?
    My heart has shattered apart
    and I don't even know
    if I can ever mend it.

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    ayingbing’s Poems (6)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Awful Truth 1
    Untitled 0
    Uninspired 1
    Heart and Pen 1
    Broken 0
    Love? 0