Glass Jars
Individuals who keep recollections
In glass containers
Must be vigilant
Of stones.
I compose sonnets,
My heart on my sleeve,
Helpless
To the smallest blows.
My heart has a ton of gaps
Certain individuals used to fill
Be that as it may, presently they're gone.
I throb around evening time
Long after
I've flipped off the lights;
A hurting
That can't be subdued…
A void
That can't be filled
Aside from a second
At the point when a little virus paw
Contacts my nose
What's more, the Cat
Cuddles for warmth.
