We sit down over a pitcher of beer,
and you tell me about how your life
is a broken heart not yet mended.
I take a sip of my pint and listen
intently to your sad story.

I slowly light a cigarette,
and watch the smoke glide
against the wind effortlessly.
We are both broken people, and
sadness clings us together.

We are brothers and sisters of
a broken hope that we once thought
we should live our lives by giving
our heart away so effortly.

So we gulp down our drinks trying
to find comfort in our own pain and
misery, but we can only heal
only a fraction of the broken
hearts.

10/14/2001

Posted on 10/14/2001
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin