brokenA Poem by Ed Hartvediobroken words are not things like rocks and ships that mean hard or we sail at dawn
goodbye doesn't end with saying as though thought could set the tides
we grow roots into each other
where wither that when dreams awake alone across the rolling days
fine edged speech does not mend the ache within a clumsy heart that dies by just that much © 2017 Ed Hart |
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4 Reviews Added on April 9, 2017 Last Updated on April 10, 2017 |

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