Broken Pieces, Deserted Bends 

The door slams,

the story ends, supposedly. 

You feel no remorse

for the crafted lies;

the heartache you caused,

the heartbreak–

the pieces you refuse 

to pick up. 

But can you?

Can you begin to pick

up the pieces of the

life you left behind?

Can you return to 

the main road,

knowing what  

you deserted 

back at that bend 

in the path? 

Nothing is simple 

and all is fair–

until it is your

own direction

you question. 

Until the only target

for your finger of

blame is the set of

bloodshot eyes staring

back at you. 

Can you find it in 

your depths to forgive,

especially when the

one who needs it most

is you? 


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