darktiger_64
09-27-2003, 06:23 PM
It’s like a broken bottle, my feelings for her.
The damage has been dealt; the question now, is how to clean it up.
The glass is sharp, it could very easily slice open my fingers, and draw blood.
But it looks so beautiful there, strewn across the hard concrete of my heart.
The light catches each piece just right, making it shimmer and glow.
Hundreds of shards, big and small, minor and major.
I have yet to move, I remain standing above it all, until I feel the coldness of the wind.
I kneel to one knee, next to my hopes and dreams, next to this, this person I’ve cared for.
If she could only understand, the love that flows from me.
I thought it would be safe in this bottle, safe enough from the outside, and all it’s cruel endeavors.
But no, I was wrong, very wrong.
How could I let this happen, I’ve always been so careful with…with everything.
That’s It!
My mind, I got lost in my mind, again…damnit!
I thought to much, waited to long, was too indecisive.
I was too afraid of making a mistake, to afraid to take a chance.
And what happened, nothing, nothing happened because of my hesitation.
Now the bottle is broken, and she’s gone.
Wow, you messed up this time buddy.
But wait, there has to be a way out of this mess, there’s always a way out.
Ahhh, yes, there just might be, this mind of mine.
It may fail me sometimes, but damn, it’s nice to have it at other times.
Yes!
Good job, I tell my head.
I’ve found the broom, the broom to sweep this up with.
But the dust pan, that’s another story.
She took it with her.
Hmmm, lets try this, I tell myself.
Sweep the broken pieces of the bottle; push them all into a pile.
Down on my knees already, I lean over the pile.
I say goodbye to my hands, and begin the incredibly slow process of picking up each and every individual piece with bare fingers.
Where to put the pieces, that’s easy.
Piece by piece, I fill my empty heart again, with the feeling I’ve been missing since she left.
The task is long, and difficult, but I finish it with pride.
My fingers are a gnarled collection of bone, flesh, and blood.
Heh, look at that, I’m human after all.
I stand up, my hands dribbling blood, but my heart…full.
Strange, I could bleed like this forever, but I’ll never loose the feeling again.
I turn and smile.
Looking into the sunset, I walk, towards the grassy, peaceful meadow, so that I can write poems, about her, and never forget.
The damage has been dealt; the question now, is how to clean it up.
The glass is sharp, it could very easily slice open my fingers, and draw blood.
But it looks so beautiful there, strewn across the hard concrete of my heart.
The light catches each piece just right, making it shimmer and glow.
Hundreds of shards, big and small, minor and major.
I have yet to move, I remain standing above it all, until I feel the coldness of the wind.
I kneel to one knee, next to my hopes and dreams, next to this, this person I’ve cared for.
If she could only understand, the love that flows from me.
I thought it would be safe in this bottle, safe enough from the outside, and all it’s cruel endeavors.
But no, I was wrong, very wrong.
How could I let this happen, I’ve always been so careful with…with everything.
That’s It!
My mind, I got lost in my mind, again…damnit!
I thought to much, waited to long, was too indecisive.
I was too afraid of making a mistake, to afraid to take a chance.
And what happened, nothing, nothing happened because of my hesitation.
Now the bottle is broken, and she’s gone.
Wow, you messed up this time buddy.
But wait, there has to be a way out of this mess, there’s always a way out.
Ahhh, yes, there just might be, this mind of mine.
It may fail me sometimes, but damn, it’s nice to have it at other times.
Yes!
Good job, I tell my head.
I’ve found the broom, the broom to sweep this up with.
But the dust pan, that’s another story.
She took it with her.
Hmmm, lets try this, I tell myself.
Sweep the broken pieces of the bottle; push them all into a pile.
Down on my knees already, I lean over the pile.
I say goodbye to my hands, and begin the incredibly slow process of picking up each and every individual piece with bare fingers.
Where to put the pieces, that’s easy.
Piece by piece, I fill my empty heart again, with the feeling I’ve been missing since she left.
The task is long, and difficult, but I finish it with pride.
My fingers are a gnarled collection of bone, flesh, and blood.
Heh, look at that, I’m human after all.
I stand up, my hands dribbling blood, but my heart…full.
Strange, I could bleed like this forever, but I’ll never loose the feeling again.
I turn and smile.
Looking into the sunset, I walk, towards the grassy, peaceful meadow, so that I can write poems, about her, and never forget.