a poem by Anita Smith

Broken soul


Into various pieces


Can’t be placed together


The pieces represent broken memories

Of his life

They represent

A dad that didn’t love him

A momma that didn’t raise him

A teacher that didn’t understand him

A church that didn’t pray for him

A woman that didn’t please him

A friend that didn’t trust him.

These pieces cannot be put back together

Because he keeps holding onto them

He holds them tight

So tight

Until the blood gushes from his hand.

He can’t let go

He doesn’t know how

So he continues to grab and twist

And watch the blood pour out onto the floor.

He revels in the pain

It’s all he knows.

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