Broken Glass Poem by KarlRomeo PierreLouis

Or be a victim of it…he said
And I disregarded it with her face
Facing only her scent and color
Forgetting the fall and sin
The noise and cautions
I will be a victim of it
Without the voice and groan of it
May the father turn his face from it
From me …these seeds will be seen and not heard
From again, not from these lips
But from the pages of photographs and secrets
I held her and then I held her
Unlike the second yet more addictive than the latter
These memories have fallen away
And flew apart in the wind to scatter
I don’t believe in the summer or the after
It’s the winter that has held me fine
As the months that followed brought me the sadder
Of the plain and the most sought after
Or be a victim of it…he said
I never had a choice…