The tragedy is not that
things are broken. The tragedy is that things are not mended again.
― Alan Paton, Cry, The Beloved Country
― Alan Paton, Cry, The Beloved Country
Shattered into pieces one's
heart,
Shards dispersed here and there,
A small issue stretched so long,
Casual comment etched so deep.
Every word averred made it worse
Even felt which was left unspoken.
It is usual for a heart to fall out,
delicately forked object of art it is,
Why not one bothers to pick up pieces,
Mends it all over to make it whole again.
Shards dispersed here and there,
A small issue stretched so long,
Casual comment etched so deep.
Every word averred made it worse
Even felt which was left unspoken.
It is usual for a heart to fall out,
delicately forked object of art it is,
Why not one bothers to pick up pieces,
Mends it all over to make it whole again.
