Dear Vincent said
"Life happens between the cracks".
What when, instead of fissures,
Chasms, gaping rents upon the land, appear?
Damaged little bird you are,
Watch your step beautiful,
For should you fall,
Your wings are clipped and chances are,
You will never find your way back.
For what, my love, would you return?
You are a misadventure.
Strayed so far
From your father's daughter,
You are more your mother's mare,
But never to be studded,
For unlike Vincent,
Who was content with an ear,
You cut out your heart.
I could have told you,
Without the preamble you have had to endure,
This life is not meant for one as beautiful as you.