Broken Pieces

Now picking up the pieces, From a heart full of bruises Dementia, pain and depression, Saturate my heart extension. She was a walking rainbow, I saw when the sun went low. She was a rare specie around town, Which I did not realize until now. Just like a sugary fleeting vine, Made she my life a tasteless wine. Every night I sit and ask the moon, Why did she have to leave so soon. I wish I could turn back the clock to gain; Her, I will be willing to take a bullet, through my brain.