A Broken Heart

A Broken Heart

A Poem by Art Freeman

How do I mend a broken heart?
Shattered by sharp words spoken harsh.


A heart so fragile
And so torn apart.


A stony heart mishandled.
Turned bashful, and punctured
In all its parts.


A heart malnourished,
Void of courage, and highly unstable.
Unencouraged, and nearly disabled.


A playful heart rendered incabable
Of coping with emotions.
Hoping for every thing hopeless.
Tortured by forces spoken and unspoken.
Uncertain of everything
That was once certain.
And searching for shelter
In a place desolate and deserted.


How do I comfort a heart
So hesitant and nervous?


So cautious and removed.


A confused heart
That's learned to be more
Introverted and aloof.


Hiding far from the truth.


How do I soothe a heart
Bruised and teased?


A heart whose locks where broken
With stolen keys.


An open heart with no closure.


.......

© 2010 Art Freeman


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Featured Review

Your compassion and desire to WANT to mend this heart is what makes this poem for me. Sometimes so many of us coil into ourselves when we are wounded - I know I have - and we are unreachable (end of story ) but time - patience - understanding - builds trust and then slowly SOMETIMES - that coiled injured heartache begins to unwrap itself and let you put bandages on it - but only SOMETIMES. That is what is so painful - having to accept when it won't happen no matter how hard you try. -Leah

Posted 17 Years Ago


5 of 5 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Very nice and flowing poem Art. You write as from experience. I felt your pain as I read your words. Wonderful piece. T





Posted 17 Years Ago


6 of 6 people found this review constructive.

BEAUTIFUL! I loved it! I like the short fragmented lines. That's more how I think anyway...

Posted 17 Years Ago


7 of 7 people found this review constructive.


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Added on April 14, 2008
Last Updated on October 25, 2010

Author

Art Freeman
Art Freeman

Brooklyn, NY



About
...I rode for Miles on Coltrane...became Dizzy when I met the Duke...spent the Holiday with the King...and a handsome Monk...but it was a colorful Hancock that taught me how to Cooke and Count... - a.. more..

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