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Broke Thoughts, Broke Stars
Stars litter my soul
Broken, fallen stars
Like glass on the unswept floor
When the broom is lost
And only a mop remains
A mop, because I have plenty of water
Or tears anyway.
Same thing.
Oh, I want to laugh
That you call stars beautiful
If only you saw inside.
Maybe I would laugh
If I could.
It would feel good to laugh.
A real laugh, that is.
A laugh in the heart of night
When I smile for no one
And the broken stars come out
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This article has 3 comments.
another real poem