Land Of A Broken Heart Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Feathers hanging on a wall made out of wood, plagues to
be admired by anyone sitting in the waiting room, tick-
ling my mind while rhythms are playing.

Going down trails of intellect, not caring where they
take me, just enjoying sensations coming into by being,
leaving me in a land of a broken heart.

It's pointed shards lying upon the ground, looking about,
seeing all the destruction that's been wrought by some-
one who never really loved me.

Knowing the truth now that it's way too late, life has
moved on and feelings have died, all emotions have been
buried deeply inside, living in spite of it all.