The Question
The Question
"How much broken are you still?",
Someone asked me,
While reading my poems,
I just stared,
Blankly.
Was I broken?
Was I this shattered before?
I asked myself.
The answer came in affirmative.
Why don't I feel it now?
Why doesn't my heartache like before?
How did I forget that I was broken?
I asked again.
Because of that angel,
Who came with a balm,
To heal all my aches,
Whose every 'I love you' felt real,
Unlike others,
Straight from the heart,
That angel loved me enough,
That I forgot that I was this broken,
I smiled upon this.
The person still waiting for me to reply,
I said,
Yeah, I was broken,
But I'm completely healed now,
In such a way that my heart forgot that it had scars.
"Is it really possible to find another love?"
Yes,
We all deserve someone who makes us forget that we were broken,
We all deserve someone whose heartaches along with ours,
We all deserve someone who sticks our broken pieces together with their gentle kisses.