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If Broken Were a City

If Broken Were A City.

If Broken were a city, it'd be so far away.
No one would want to visit yet many there would stay.
Not by choices that they made but by love they somehow lost.
Oh how they long to leave, but can't pay what it cost.

The weather's dark and dreary, it rains there every day.
But no one seems to notice. Nothing matters anyway.
Flowers very seldom grow, when they do they go unseen.
Trees are stripped of leaves, the grass no longer green.

There's rivers all around it, there's no bridge that they can cross.
They can't swim the river, for the drowning in their loss.
The water races fierce and wide, but sometimes still and deep.
It's fed by the tears they cried on nights when they can't sleep.

The streets have names like lonely and there's one called sadness too.
With billboards to remind them of all that life has put them through.
There are no trains and buses, they never go nowhere.
Except a park called empty, where they just sit and stare.

No one there has much to say but if they talk at all.
Overwhelmed with their emotions the teardrops start to fall.
Their eyes are far from empty, you can see right from the start.
In the city they call broken, they all have a broken heart.

There's seldom any lights turned on, it's dark as it can be.
Because when you live in Broken there's really nothing much to see.
So if you find you're in Broken, you won't be bothered much.
It's void of all the things you loved, you can look but you can't touch.

There are no celebrations, people come here just to grieve.
No one knows until they get here, that they can never leave.
Don't send no cards or letters, no one ever gets their mail.
Cause this city they call Broken. Is just another name for hell.

Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015

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