Broken Things | Poetry

Broken Things

I’m in love with a man
Who loves broken things
Dead engines, flat tires,
And old rusty springs
Who’s to say
What the attraction is
Perhaps I’m merely
A hobby of his
An empty soul
With a broken heart
A possession with which
He’ll never part
…His angel, her demons,
My saving grace
Lay me to rest
In this hallowed place
Though, not easily daunted,
Skilled hands he’ll still bring
For, alas, all I am
Is another broken thing

dEfyant Message Sent via BlackBerry

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Broken Things | Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s