Shattered Poem by Helen Crutchett

The weak fluttering of my broken
heart lay scattered into a million pieces,
a broken priceless statue
needing to be glued back
but not knowing how ~

The shops are full these treasures
some fake some real,
but the only statue true is the
porcelain crafted by a loving heart
now left in fragments ~

I begin to reassemble and
try to make sense of my broken heart
and glue the empty dreams back to
where they belong ~