Poetry Corner: A Broken Picture

You were my gallery,

-every part of you beautiful.

And all I did was hang with you,

alongside you

-an ornament, a piece of decoration.

You decided it was too much.

You created another perspective,

slightly askew,

a different angle

-you tried to adjust.

Not art, not a masterpiece

-a picture.

A passing image;

the missing piece,

to be replaced

-with ease.

A floating fragment,

left searching

for the bigger picture.

And now…broken pieces,

Scattered –

so many.

It was such a sight. All torn up.

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