Broken

brokenman

I am broken
Fractionally incomplete
Frayed at the edges
By time and pretense
These conscious lies
Hanging around my neck
Like so much baggage
Heavy and obtuse
I am a tinkling glass
A banging cymbal
Crashing to the ground
But there is no fanfare
No symbolic gestures
No gathering at my grave
In tearful remembrance
Because I’m still alive
Stitched together
By time and consequence
Drenched by the downpour
Of my tears in the rain
Facing the wreckage of a life
Lived in the margins
Cracked and bleeding
Living but not really alive
Like a shadow of the man
I used to believe I was
So place a sign around my neck
Because I am broken
And somebody ought to know.

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