my life. . .

my life. . .
is a field of broken goodbyes
a field of broken glass
painful to even look
at in the sun
testament to the fact
that Love is not all you need

my life should have been lived
by a non poet
maybe it wouldn’t have hurt
quite the same way

my life is a cardboard box
of sharp knives
given to a child
with a warning on the flap
(so that its the kid’s fault)

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

One thought on “my life. . .”

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