A broken heart is a dropped mirror against the bathroom floor
each shard scattering across the linoleum,
fragments reflecting the hidden parts
to something they thought they knew, oh so well.

The lining around the toilet really needs some hands on work--
behind it the sand dunes of the Arabian Desert.
Clumped up hair trying to mimic the humps of camels,
and a lone razor blade as frayed as
a lost wandered amongst the sand.

Wooden panels enriched with the holes of last times termites--
corners splayed with the webbings,
of those **** daddy long legs,
and a pincher bug trudging their way to a hole in the corner.

Picking up the pieces, was something to learn from.
This common room they thought they knew, oh so well,
actually had a hidden world just beneath their view.
Maybe the heart broke just like the mirror,
to open the mind to all the other things near by.