The Broken Bell

The broken bell rings
As life goes on
Its anthem diminished over time.
No one notices the subtle sound
It's as if it has been there forever
Or never.

We all become broken bells
At one time we were new.
Now some are cracked,
Some have fallen,
And many tarnish.
Most of us are dented,
But we call it demented,
As we face the mental beatings of past memories

Sometimes we willingly let go of our rope
The string that forces us upright
Some of us prefer to greet the morning,
And some of us ring in the night.
For those that let go,
Often, we never rung.
Why, you ask?
Perhaps we're afraid of being wrong,
Dinging at half past three
Or somewhere in between.

That broken bell once rang so proudly
Overbearing, singing loudly.
Once captured the hearts of all that heard.
It's so similar to those that turned away!
To make that sound was such an unrewarded chore.
My bell, this bell
Now exists nevermore.