Morning breaks

Morning breaks a lonely heart

but not the part that mourns

and so it stands eternally

a monument to pain.

Not of stone - no, no, no,

but like a locket round the neck

to not ere drift apart 

from the main attraction.     

But the main attraction broken now

no longer stands on centre stage

and holds the gaze of one who loves

unblinking and steadfast.

Broken hearts and mourning parts

so near yet far apart

seek but never find

the element that binds.

But when it’s time at last, at last,

for the final bow

perhaps there’ll be a clap and cheer

for the drama of a life

that grants us all the breath of life

until the curtain drops.

Perhaps, perhaps!