Glass

Glass

In this wreckage lies a man.

His eyes see wonder and hope,

his heart beats strong still;

but his throat is full of glass.

Sharp, angry, jagged splinters

that slice and pierce

at each tortured breath

and with each pitiful swallow.

These fragments of memory

are lodged fast,

lacerating and scarring,

a deep carved weal of pain.

And he lives this agony

each and every moment.

Every woman who has fed him

has left him this agony.

His reward for vows and promises

taken and broken by them;

the mask for their guilt.

 

 

8^th June 2010

Reviews

[Falling Leaf.]

Boy, you are good! Every line added to this anguished image of a man beaten and broken and cut one time too many. Another fantastic write.

Adieu!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Savannah