Abandoned nest where
No bird comes to rest.
The broken heart is a freshly
Born desert where the greens
Are scared to sprout.
With no desire to hunt or eat
Or a plan to patiently wait
Or sleep. The broken heart
Is a restless beast that's
Mocked by even the petty prey.
An orphan, a tramp
A tombstone with no one
Left to write an epitaph.
It's an empty bottle wanting
To be filled by emptying
Other bottles.
A conch shell on a secluded
Beach that tries to amplify the wind
In search of meaning.
But the music nonetheless,
Is hollow and bland.
A war-torn city in the forties,
Great Depression of the thirties.
A failed bank, even US refuses
To bail out because of the pain
It carries.
Satan wants to develop
Here his real estate,
But the loneliness of this
Dingy Street, only hopeless
Romantics can tolerate.
So the heartbroken come here
To live rent-free for
Assisted self-sabotage and
Aid for sleep-deprived nights.
Cut off from the mainstream,
The broken heart is a
A self-deprecated ghost town,
Ignored for good,
For the benefit of the people
Who can't handle reality.
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