The broken heart
It is hard to tell the broken heart apart.
It walks the street, cold and hard.
It hurts and bleeds, but does not cry.
People say it must be soft, to regain what it lost.
But the heart weeps for what it could not keep.
And pines for gain in the rain.
The broken heart has to build its seals again.
And believe that faith, hope and love can live again.
But tell me if this can be done with a human hand?
Allan Bukusi
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