‘’Broken’’

                        ‘’Broken’’

A broken ship, floating on desolate waters,

An old watch, that no longer value time.

The game of life, broken down in 4-quarters,

A poem that encourages no true rhyme.

A broken heart never to be remanded,

A sun that no longer boast its shine.

An habitual prisoner, destined to re-offended,

Sands of a shattered hour glass, mudded not fine

A broken promise never again to be rescinded,

A floating bottle with a message long lost.

Harshest of all words never to be recanted,

A Life is a valuable price to have cost.

We seek in our search, of a higher power,

For hope and wishes, are things of the past.

This agony commences on Hour After hour

How long will the nightmare continue to last?

Alcohol born, gave my troubles their name,

Broken, tattered dreams, lead to nothing but pain.

A heart leaked of all desires and resigned from the game

Engulfed in torrential down pour, with no umbrella in rain.

A river without a current, will lay dormant in time,

Until the right moment to flow

Some times in hell, the only true way out, is

to walk deeper into its door.

A grandfathers clock, old, broken and won’t wind,

Leaves the coo-coo oblivious, unaware and time blind.

There must re be a prayer, for so many pieces to hold,

time well invested but no good deeds to unfold.

My empty pocket, that contains no cash is no good, nor is a face,

that fixates an unjust frown.

Ring around the roses, pocket full of posies, according to the plague

and ash to ash, we all (do) fall down

Forced to face our demands, brandish no good deeds,

In our hearts and minds,

Searching for lost answers, though running out of time,

feeling like a lost soul, the blind leading the blind

In the end, I embraced being alone, a head under water now,

that breaths again, no more.

A mirror has been cracked and the shards are sharp and long,

no path has been paved, between me and the door

The ocean never listens, to our songs that we sing,

I’ve grown tired of singing and carry the tune anyway.

But the birds they catch on and repeat every word,

that was given, from the red robin, sparrow and blue jay.

You want be reading this, till I have long gone

and during death, no not my holistic pain.

No longer a prisoner, to my own broken body,

are held captive, to droplets of broken rain.

Jim