a broken heart is an open heart
a pipe with a missing valve
pain, though a fickle agent,
always transforms
some are changed for the better
becoming a source of relief
rightfully sweet is the nectar
soothingly poured
into hands cupped to receive
others are worse for wear
bleeding venom instead
needlessly harsh is the acid
carelessly spilled
onto innocent palms
for what is a crack but a window?
spilling the essence of souls
whether ambrosial honey
or merciless vitriol
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem