Art is the window to the pain

The forgotten beauty of the broken

When things are broken you often lose the pieces.
They slipped through the cracks in the floor boards,
fall from high heights and are left to be forgotten.
At first you will have hope of finding the lost piece.
but one day your hope will fly away like a majestic bird never to return.
So that ones beloved toy or trinket will now be labelled garbage to be tossed into the world,
to decay and grow unseemingly things to smell and shrivel to be forgotten.
no matter how hard the Hidden pieces in your homes want to find its other half it can never do so. because it has been discarded as well .
  If one piece is missing then the whole beautiful thing is garbage is nothing is trash.
I am a broken person.
Pieces of me have been discarded,
thrown into the trash to be incinerated.
My hope has flown from the coop never to return.
I will never be whole.
No one keeps a broken thing,
so why would anyone keep me.