It's three am, a pitch black room,
And not a single thought.
It's so much pain and emptiness.
It's everything... and not.
I'm broken.
Hard to hear when said aloud,
Harder to believe.
Harder still to own these words
And wear them on my sleeve.
I'm broken.
It's not like in the movies,
A public spectacle.
It's more a quiet stepping back.
A silence and a lull.
I'm broken.
It's all the fear that follows me,
A past that won't let go.
It's shame for wrongs that still go on.
The me that no one knows.
I'm broken.
Maybe you don't see it,
Or do but look away.
Maybe you are damaged, too,
And don't know what to say.
I'm broken.
It's every day, the struggle,
The battle waged within.
Not wanting this, not wanting that,
But showing up again.
I'm broken.
It's therapy, it's "talk it out,"
It's "learn to let it go."
It's medication, numb myself,
And no one has to know.
I'm broken.
And then there are the moments,
When heart and mind connect.
The friends, the times, the feelings,
So good, it feels perfect.
I'm broken.
It's looking back at fifty years,
And all has come to this.
A broken man, who alternates,
Between despair and bliss.
I'm broken.
But awesome is as awesome does,
And I continue on.
It's six am and still it's dark,
And always comes the dawn.
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