A Cracked Vase

I got to thinking about love, and how you can put it out there, but there’s no guarantee that it will be returned. How it can, and has, been trampled on, thrown out and shattered, how it goes through a lot of pain and suffering for others, and how it’s like two things:

  • A flower – carefully nurtured, blossoms and grows, but will eventually wilt and die and be thrown out
  • A vase that you carefully design and create, but nobody wants and is thrown on the floor and shattered

So, I decided to write a poem about it:


Love is a glorious thing, they say

It’s exhilarating and exciting every day

Well, it must be in their dreams

We must be looking at different things, it seems

Love is cold

And it’s bold

You put your heart on display

And hope that no-one takes it away

And twists it, stabs it

Breaks it in two

Rejects it, throws it out

Just like you do

It’s beaten, mocked

Thrown in a cellar and locked

Away to save it from the cold embraces

And the mocking faces

It’s a cracked vase

Just a phase

That’s shattered

And then thrown away

You hold it out to others

Who walk over it and smothers

Your burning flame

With terrifying aim

So, love is cold

And used and abused

And then it’s told

To go away

Because it has no place to stay


Preview of an upcoming book of mine titled My Cracks And Crevices: A Collection of Poetry. Coming out next month.

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