Poem: Broken People

Broken people,

smiling and waving,

“How do you do?”



Don’t know if it’s shame, guilt, pride or ego that keeps the smile wide,

as the cracks in the psyche widen but your thoughts distract you from that reality,

focuses you on the nonsense of life,

little pebbles that crack the windshields,

little words or lack of them crack the mind,

just as the glass needs tending to right away or else the crack will spread,

just like that, the breaking mind needs tenderness,

the soft touch, the pleasant voice, the caring embrace,

lacking all that,

the broken man suffers alone,

craving interaction,

getting a false sense of it on the internet,

chest swells with pride at a friend request or a like,

addicted to that feeling,

waiting for it more,

the morphine drip,

but it runs out quick,

before enough of it can make you numb to the loneliness,

left alone to suffer after that,

with the knowledge of that positive acceptance,

fiending for it anywhere,

as you walk among the strangers,

among other broken people,

among yourself,

seeking yourself,

finding no one.




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