Broken

Fluttering like
a girl,
running after her mother,
I come
to you.

You turn around,
you push
me down, and I tumble
to the
ground

In a white mound
of gown
of grace and of lace
of pearls
and curls.

Streaming from your
face are
all the years, you've wast'd
on me,
to be.

From mine are times
you chose
not to see what you've done
to me,
to me

In a white mound
of gown
of grace and of lace
of pearls
and curls.

Standing there in
a tux
was he a man you ne'er
for me
could be.

From down I rise
surprised
to see....

Time Stills.
Silence Roars.
The Beating.
The Racing.

.... of two hearts
simultaneously
breaking.

And curls
of pearls, of lace
and of grace and a gown
in a
white mound.