Holding Hands While Feelings Die

Fractured heart and dejected dreams,
Hatred pounds the nails right in,
Holding together the broken pieces
Of what was there,
Of what we shared.

Wind whistles through housed emotions,
Wooden bones exposed to the world,
Fingers reaching from a crown of stone,
Rotting away,
Crumbling away.

Holding hands while feelings die,
The black path that leads us down,
Among the shattered shards of glass we lie,

by Stuart Doggett

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