Poems

broken

We look out the window of opportunity, with our hands upon the glass.
Only wondering how soon it will be, or waiting for the time to pass.
The grandfather clock has stopped, and the China has been smashed, and now with the hinges torn off, we know how long we'll last.

We look out the window of sanity, with our head upon the pane. With our brains constantly awaiting to not ever feel the pain.
The pills have been taken, and the needles have been used. But it will let us never forget about the times that we were abused.

We look out the window of beauty, with our eyes staring out the crystal. Our eyes laying on what "could be", and nothing that can be trustful.
Cuts have been made on our bodies, and the blood runs out very grim. But the idea of never being "pretty", can tear us limb from limb.

We look out the window of love, with our lips against the pane.
With our hearts and our minds both strolling down the dearest memory lane.
The light has turned grey, and the sun has now become rain. And everything that's happening is keeping us, from being entirely sane.

The point is a word that people have always knew. But no one has really put it into a place like this before me and you. The word to look for is broken, you may have seen it in a clock or heard in a tune. Then just always remember and tell your kin, that we can be broken too.