Broken Clock, Crushed Heart

I know that look,
self-satisfaction, ego fed,
again you found power
in another woman's bed.

Time stands still between us,
no comfort found in the past,
passionless dreams for a future,
clock broken; heart dying too fast.

I am emotions falling apart,
a mere ghost of movie trash,
where love's precious rubies
are reduced to common glass.

And you, maker of blues,
why such an exhilarating rush?
To thrill as I disappear in front of you.
My very essence now cobwebs and dust.



By Kathie Stehr
June 2013