Sunday, December 23, 2007


This poem, "Shards," I wrote after seeing a homeless man early one morning in New York City. I saw this man sitting down and leaning against a building on West 57th Street. He had all of his belongings spread out around him in a somewhat orderly way, but yet still not together in any sense. I felt really bad for him and wondered how his life's journey took him to the present moment. My thinking being that in order for him to put his life together - or to even make sense of it - would be like trying to reconnect giant shards of glass. I'll always remember that moment when I saw him and how much sympathy I felt for him, yet felt completely powerless...Without explaining any further, it's about a man who lost his love for life and doesn't know where, when, or if he will ever get it or something like it back.

When our love ended
my soul folded.
I shut down and refused to feel,
thus the only way I could endure.
My heart was completely broken;
irreparably damaged.
Like shards of glass
it would be next to impossible
to put together again.
Life lost meaning;
anxiety, depression, and
fear filled my life.
I missed you so.
A love like ours shows its face
but once or twice per life.
I await now for its reappearance,
wishing for a love as splendid.
My heart still nothing more but shards
in desperate need of repair;
pining for the next you.

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