When Hearts Become Clocks
and stop working
While you were away to rebuild Rome
with revelations of your prose,
my future, like my past, disappeared.
With few resources to sustain our home,
our once-forever abode
soon collapsed exactly as I feared.
But after feeling restless and witnessing
patterns of fracture embedded deep
across domestic structure lines
I became determined to not get me down,
and took my heart to town,
while unaware of its ability to tell time.
And although I still believe, yes indeed,
this break was caused by a mess you made,
that is where my heart is now
and where my heart forever stays.
In the town center, my heart sits,
never again to know bliss,
a broken clock on display.
Thank you for taking the time to read When “Hearts Become Clocks.” It you enjoyed my work and want to read more, please check out “Frozen Pines.”
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About the Creator
Adversity is kindling I choose to burn to keep my hands warm in winter ensuring my words will stretch beyond the years that turn my bones to dust.
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