Broken Poem by Michael Ernst
Broken
Grandpa watches his little ones play, running, learning, happy, living, laughing
Papa this, Papa that, please be happy, laugh with us Papa
He tries to smile lovingly, truthfully, honestly
But his efforts are labored, forced, something is missing, errant, he is incomplete
He is a shell, distant in thoughts, merely a reflection in a broken mirror of a broken mask on a broken man
(2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/5/2024 8:31:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
