Bro ken

Bro ken

I’m broken .

Not like the vase that has been put together,

Not like dry Earth that has cracked,

Not even like a shattered heart.

I’m a broken human vessel,

And the crevasses of my soul remain invisible

There are no tangible fractures

That can tell you of my painful years.

I’m broken like a human being

With no likeness of my existence

I’m not an empty husk nor am I like the desolated desert.

I’m broken,

A mere mortal

My shattered voice remains unspoken.

I’m drowning as I breathe,

I wallow inside the belly of the ocean,

I cannot see my hand when I reach out.

I don’t know if I’m headed for the surface or the ocean‘s death bed.

I’m broken and no one can see.




Port Arthur, Tasmania. 2017


The curtain never falls

And the show carries on

The stage is all red

With blood stains and the dead.

Onlookers stare in indifference

In the half-empty theatre.

They think it’s all merely a show

Seated in comfort arranged in rows.

The puppets cry and weep

Unable to break free of the strings.

They are all killed in the end.

No one is spared, not even a dear friend.

The silent cries fade away in the wind.

As the little girl sits in the dust

Her hand grips a disfigured doll.

She wonders,” must the show still go on.?”