VISTAS: An awareness of a range of time, events, or subjects. A broad Mental View.

A Place in My Heart

Lyla Bettis

There's a place in my heart that is dying,
Turning bit by bit to jagged stone.
What was once alive beating, joyous,
Is becoming tired, bitter, and mostly alone.

It's the place where you hold your Forevers,
Wrapped snugly in the fabric of love.
Then life takes its toll on these heartstrings,
Severing with knives, some with kid gloves.

It begins slowly, just a twinge here or there.
Who'd notice if one string was cut or raveled?
A few frayed fibers, seems not much to pay,
For as many paths as we have traveled.

But weaken the whole by even one thread,
Broken promises, bruised feelings filter thru',
Tiny pieces of love are touched and become dead.
The stone starts to grow, no matter what you do.

Too many tears in the cloth, tho' everyone's trying,
Holes that can't be patched or merely mended.
There's a place in my heart that is dying.
Leaving the Forevers untended.

Reprinted and Published with Permission
©Lyla Bettis