If there is any place that the poem I wrote would be read and understood I think it may be here.....

Broken

Adjective. 1. Not functioning; out of order;
2. Subdued totally;
3. Humbled: a broken spirit

Stared at the mirror today, it didn’t look back at me.
It was like someone pretending, like a version could be.
Couldn’t see how to fix it, like a crack in a rock.
Once the damage is done, you can’t turn back the clock.
But it’s up to the one with the crack to decide
If it’s a spot to let light in or one where we hide

So when the (car) lights shone bright behind me as if to see if I was enough.
They showed the world of the illusion, the one I’d believed, that I was tough.
She sits beside me now all alone, unsure who I am silently.
Wishing who I’d been would come back home, who I am now would up and leave.
Stand beside her screaming inside, but no words are ever spoken.
Need to tell her of the pain, need to whisper that,” I’m broken.”

When I woke up the next day, I couldn’t do what I had done.
If a man is all his actions, then who was I now when I had none.
Even little voices wondered why things seemed different in our room.
With the hardest words I’d ever heard, “I hope daddy comes back soon.”

Couldn’t go back to the man I was before, when who he was, was just a lie.
Someone else’s dream of what I should be, no way to live, or way to die.
So to her I told of all the pain inside, all those words I should have spoken.
And I told the truth about the man she loved, as I whispered that, “I’m broken”

So I sit in between. Somewhere neither here nor there
Where I don’t have to look at the man in the mirror.
I can be someone else not the reflection I see.
As I let the light from the crack pour out onto me.