Broken

Is this world but an empty place,

Where vultures fly and sing their songs of sin and death?

Am I meant for more

Than the simple?

Can anybody hear my heart's words

As it screams and echoes phrases of remorse; phrases of love?

I see the floor.

My face, broken pieces trampled upon,

My reflection in the cold, sole solace;

That is,

My tears.

My countenance is drenched in the mortality of happiness.

I've apologized a million times.

I've meant it a thousand.

But people remember.

Our minds are the strongest cages,

Holding everything captive if we want.

This I've learnt.

I cannot break free from this prison of gloom that is me.

I've tried a million times.

I've tried hard a thousand.

But this broken cage that holds me is the greatest irony ever lived.

Life has not been fair or free and it never will.

Some guilts I have are mine;

Some were handed to me by strangers.

But letting go of burdens is the hardest task at hand.

I've kept my face in pieces far too long.

I'm not sure when that shall change.

I hope soon.