Where do broken hearts go?
Along the boulevard of broken dreams, sitting, staring
blankly the horizon and hoping a caring hand to take you where do broken hearts
go?
I know one common place most broken hearts go. A place where
they can find privacy but not peace, a temporary shelter to comfort a bleeding
heart, it’s the bedroom and a pillow. I am sure every pillow has its own story
to tell, of broken promises, failed relationship of endless nights of sobs and
tears. Every room witness different stories of happiness, sorrow, triumph and
sad goodbyes. A place anyone would run to, whenever we want to escape from
reality of this world.
Along the beach, watching seabirds fly while listening to
the waves where no one hears you cry. Waiting for the sun to set until darkness
spread and no one see your tears. I am sure even the sand knows if the tears that
fall down express sadness or happiness. Even a seagull knows to distinguish who
among the crowd is solitary by heart. The sunray knows to point a wounded heart
seeking solace like the sunset leaving daylight with darkness.
Maybe in a park, with people around, you may find a few
comfort from an angel in disguise. From the strangers smile you may feel a
little care brushing your hair. If only those benches can speak, I am sure each
one has something to share you with. To make you feel you are not alone, to let you know how many broken hearts ever seated there shedding tears, cursing
someone, blaming love. Even the tree knows a secret, of lovers, promises, some
failed and some success stories.
Where do broken hearts go? Follow their steps and you will
know.
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