Eyes glazed like poetry, the kiln of my
Heart turning what once was soft fragile
Painted in what was a shadow of what
Was once bright now oxidized on.

This vessel holds the ashes of what I used
To be, before you did that threw me in
The fires of sorrow and despair,
I was once a flower fresh and free.

Now I am but a glazed reminisce of what
Once was a kiln burnt heart ash where a
Heart was meant to always beat.