Poetry Files. A Book I’ll Never Write, Poetry. By Devon D. Eaton.


A Book I’ll Never Write


By Devon D. Eaton

It seems like breaking is all the heart’s good for

And I don’t think I can take it anymore

But another crack divides my stony heart

Feel the dust as it shrouds my lungs

Too much sorrow for one so young

Now throw the final blow and watch me fall apart


I thought you loved me

I guess I should have seen

The past repeating

And known we could never have been

I was a fool to

Give my heart to you

Without a guarantee I’d get yours too


Life is a labyrinth with monsters at every turn

And our solution is to break the walls and watch it burn

But what’s left to live for when we’re through

Love is the string that guides us through the maze

Circumventing the rubble and the blaze

I thouht that it would lead me straight to you

But how could I guessed

The apathy that you possessed

As you struck the match and set the string on fire

My heart the dynamite

The fuse you set alight

Blown to pieces by the object of my desire.



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