A heart bereaved
in stories, poems and anecdotes
clenched fist,
heavily traumatised
it sold whatever it could find
a moment from past,
a happy ever after
it sold what none could get
for he knew what it was worth
to be loved once
and to be forgotten next
so he sold dreams,
passions and all things,
things humanity don’t have in abundance
he would make fake copies
and would sell them as new,
with a heavy heart
He knew what it needed
to nurse it back to reality
“just a little dose of fake reality”
He said to himself..
