feelings weakness Poetry poem

The Broken Goblet

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The Broken Goblet It was the only Cup, She’d drink from all the time. Hopes and dreams filled to the brim, She never had a reason to ever feel grim.

Now she looked at the broken pieces, The shards were piercing her heart. She lay there cold, numb and weak, All those dreams spilled down her cheeks.

Drowning in despair, She couldn’t see any light. The battle seemed difficult, For she had lost the will to fight. She’d decided to let go, when a voice within she could hear,“Nothing is ever so broken,That the glue of Faith can’t repair.” With trembling hands, She picked up the pieces.

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