Shattered lives fall
like seeds on the wind,
some on rocky ground
where they wither and die.
Some on soft earth
where they nurture and grow,
while other just float along
on the endless tide
of their own misery.
Shattered lives hit
by some devastating blow,
an encumbering circumstance
far beyond their control.
Like glass, they shatter.
Some never recover,
but look at their loss
as some harbinger of doom.
Backing away from existence
and into an endless gloom.
Others try relentlessly
to move forward,
picking up the pieces
to start over again.
10 March 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem