.
Take this, this poem
with torn, tattered edges
Stuff it in pockets
of jeans faded blue
Tell all the people
who teeter on ledges
Nothing is worse
if you have not a clue
Shatter this pen
flowing ink made of fire
Charring the castles
where dragon wings fly
Fanning the flames
that a sad heart has started
When every stanza
now ends in goodbye
Fracture the vase
that once sat in the window
Emerald green
with a chardonnay shine
Toss me the shards
till you see I am bleeding
Now have some cheesecake,
a nice glass of wine
Bury these dreams
so they fade in the morning
Hidden from sunlight
and coated in dew
Roll out the leaves
in the cover of autumn
Springtime for me
is now long overdue