Worn out like tattered rags,
on the hopeless homeless,
tarnished like an old brass pot
on an empty forgotten shelf.
This is my heart to me,
torn by the shattered glass shards
embedded in my dog-tired soul.
Sometimes memories are instilled
when remembered in time,
They flow through your veins,
like a river wild on the countryside of life.
When true love calls again,
I will answer it with open arms,
and I will protect it forever in my soul.
Timothy Michael DiVito c2020
