Picking up The scattered pieces, I shudder In a state of entrapment I fight Against the trespassing memories that sting And the voice of reason That pierces My bruised existence Sharp, is the pain That comes violently, Overtaking me As I look at him next to me… And then, Through love’s still, Steady eyes, I sigh Disarmed Pushing against the oppressive pain, I sit up To face love prematurely Born of another place That was meant for us World’s later We found it here Among the broken pieces Of our souls instead By Sandy Sinn