pieces

So many attractive women,
all coming my way,
who would vie for
a little piece of my time,
and a chance to make me theirs.

They think they would like a shot,
at this old worn torn heart, do they?

Sorry girls,
but there’s not much left,
but bits and pieces,
as I work diligently to try,
to piece this puzzle, 
with so many pieces missing,
back together again.

You see, it has been
torn to little tiny bits,
with few pieces recognizable. 

And who knows,
when I get through,
what it will look like?

Will it even resemble a heart,
that could feel,
anything but pain?

And could it ever feel,
any kind of love,
once more I pray,

this last of the hopeful romantics,
who’s hopes and dreams were dashed,
to the depths of hell for lust of another.

So as I take this time to heal please know,
that look in my eye, and my smile burning bright,
are just my disguises to hide such great pain,
as I once more try to pick up the pieces.