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What becomes of a broken heart?

When time cannot heal its pain

Shattered, to pieces, broken glass

Fractured, bleeding, still again

We try to make amends with it

Somehow, it’s never the same

So we toss it aside, like the trash

Who saves it, is anybody’s game

It seems to be such an easy task

Never giving it a second thought

Perhaps we need to remember

Our love can never be bought


November Writing Prompt – fractured and formless – Day 28/30

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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