There are many times,
A heart is broken,
And broken is,
As broken does,
Destroys whatever that is,
Or whatever that was.
We pack the little self worth we have left,
And travel to safety and embark on a journey,
That sees the sun as a hindrance,
That shines light on every wound we suffered.
We trek into damp dark caves,
To be warmed by hurt and disadvantage.
Closure is delusion that keeps us running in circles,
Never finding the path that leads us to decision.
Like a flashlight beamed with emotion we search under every rock to find justice for injustice,
And scour the bars for vindication,
Where we become drunken on choas.
Never trusting when love delivers an antidote that cures the mistrust,
That a thousand lovers broke.