Inwardly consumed at this early hour
Turmoil and confusion
The bad inside growing beginning to tower
Love remaining just an illusion.
The day already starting to sour.
My heart is just another intrusion.
The suns light reviving a flower
While within it simply rains pollution.
The sky turns from black silk to blindingly bright.
Gloom seems irrational.
The mornings breeze has a chilly bite.
As change becomes inevitable.
Sometimes wishing it was always night.
Where a creation can become sensational
Everything must start anew within the morning light.
Except my love which will remain unconditional
A weathered broken heart not shiny and new
Beaten and torn apart
Battle worn black and blue
But still a loving heart
A possession held by so very few
A priceless work of art.
Once you thought love simply grew
Needing only a seed to start
If you had only knew
The art of a heart from the start is it can only love in part.
Until it receives that love back from you.
Copyright © Rose Henderson | Year Posted 2017
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