Broken Soul

There's a broken down soul in a broken down world. The falling leaves from an old oak tree that no one seems to notice as they pass by on their stroll to and from work. The times have changed in all that they are. People are too busy to take in all the small luxuries the world has to offer. The smile the old man sitting on the park bench gives as you pass by. The kids playing on the playground at the park with smiles from ear to ear as they have no cares in the world. The gentle breeze that holds your hand in the softest way, but you can't feel it because of the modern technology that resides there. It all became his world; a world of forgotten treasures because of the busyness of life.

In those moments that he lie still in bed at night, with no other sound than her breath, that's when the world made sense. All you ever needed was silence to show you the beauty that the world has to offer. The simple pleasures that become the unforgettable moments in a man's life are often the things that are taken too soon. He's left with an unsteady goodbye on a fragile heart. Her breath in form of song is all that he has left imprinted on a memory that will never fade.

A tear stained pillow substitutes what once was the greatest height of the day. His sorrow comes in all forms, but pours out in words that no one will ever read. Filling a notebook of all the things that should've been said and done seem to be the only way to communicate with someone lost along the twists and turns of the world. A notebook that may someday tell his story to a world that would never understand all of the thoughts and feelings that poured from his unsteady hand by a dim light. His head turns as he watches the light flickering in the window. The dog howls outside his window, almost as if he can feel the lonesome heart of his best friend. The wind blows as the leaves begin to turn and fall from their branches that have been their home for the few short months since budding.

Sometimes what's broken can never be healed. What deserves a touch can never be felt. Hearts that need to be mended will never know the truth of what once was. Love is never enough for the people who all crave the best, but for those who know the true emotions of one great love or even one failed love, never forget the prints left on their heart. Often in life, the best things are the things that are stuck in an old box that rests in a corner of a closet. Those memories are pulled out at some distant time in the future only to be relived for a short time. Real love never dies; it just falls from its branch that used to be its home. It'll stare up in wonderment of all the things it could've done different to still be connected to what once was.

Learn more about this author, Todd Kelley.
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