Sunday, April 19, 2026

Broken Glass, Borrowed Light

 My Heart is broken glass.

My soul is crumpled paper. 

My tears fall quiet

        with what seems to be no meaning.

There is darkness

    hidden in my light.

Or. Is my light not my own?...

My light is those who love me.

    Trying to sheer the darkness.

            prevailing. 

                Only because.

I know they love me.

Where would I be without belief?

-until next time, S.

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