Poem -

Broken Pieces

Broken Pieces

Broken pieces.
Slog.
Life
can be
a slog.
A brutal
slog.
Riddled
with
minefields.
Dog eat
dog.
Left
bloodied
and beaten.
Not for
the faint
of heart.
Gladiators.
Warriors
on the
battlefield.
The
battlefield 
called
life.
Many fail,
give up
the ghost.
Sometimes.
If you’re
lucky,
very lucky.
Near the
end of the
journey,
the clouds
will break.
The sun
will shine,
warm breezes
envelope.
All then
will be
right with
the world.

 

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Comments

author
Gwendoline

“Slog” what a fab word John, it has weight and a dragging sensation to it. Perfect for your piece here. Another nice write 
Gwen :)

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