Broken Clay Pots

The only heart I had ~
Now breaks ~
As hardened clay pots ~
You’re frail and fragile ~
Bones ~
Protected by slipping ~
Skin I shall be at my end ~
My nighttime closing in ~
The heart I have left ~
Blows away a sand ~
Left decrepit by ~
The only ache I feel ~
The slipping of fair ~
Skin Yellowed now deep ~
Within ~
Your blood runs in my arms ~
Breath, don’t go ~
I’ll never forget.
2016©dedhedpoet

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