Broken Words

The rain pours
Streams of rivers run down my face and
Onto my bear arms,
Creating puddles all around my feet.
I look into the reflection,
Beyond the top layer
Where all the words are.
But every time I reach, my hand disrupts the glass
And all the words go flying into the wind.
No matter how hard I try
The words are just out of reach.
So my mind breaks
Like shattered glass, dangerous but broken.
I have disarrayed the puddle
And my words with it
Thoughts have gone forever in never dying wind.
 

More by Anonymous

  • By Anonymous

    bloom

    on my bedroom dresser,
    demise blooms from cracked petals and dried stems,
    rubbing against a dusty glass vase. 

    each flower once flourishing and loved--
    only to be hung upside down,
    and left to die in a dank closet. 
  • Poetry

    By Anonymous

    turn my swag on

    Live, Laugh, Love.
    The beautiful flowers of earth sprout from the seeded soil,
    The trees blow back and fourth with the rythem of the wind,
    the ocean swells into giant pool along the rock cliffs of life,