The Diamond Split
The Diamond Split
A Jeweler once let me watch his work.
He set the stone in a vise grip place and then.
He took no aim or warning just hit the thing a good sharp whack
and then he showed me how it split off to the side not in the center
like he had wanted.
HE blamed it then on me for being there to watch him.
The moral of this story poem is the love inside of me.
The hatred of the lost love has caused a rent in me.
My damaged heart still loves ewe but not perfectly.
It is not the fault of ewe for ewe are perfect every day.
The diamond split a little to the left of center place.
The heart eye have was good enough when eye was very young.
To find my purple flower in the yard and then the place.
The place eye stay inside of me when ewe come to me eye go.
Please take this unperfectness and make it work for love.
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