I was new. I was beautiful.
But I never knew I was fragile too.
Love happened to me
as it always does and
I placed myself eagerly in someone's hands.
But I wasn't handled with enough care
to be kept safe, unhurt and dear.
I was dropped hard on the floor.
I was broken, shattered and life got sour.
I was left alone in the corner
as pieces of regret.
Days passed,
nobody cared, but
eventually, I found that the wounds stopped to hurt.
I struggled to
collect all my broken pieces.
But I was too weak to put them back
to how they were.
Suddenly someone noticed my broken pieces
and took them carefully and placed them back.
But the piece of happiness was found nowhere.
So he broke a piece of his and filled my gap.
The scars remained,
but whole and complete, I came back.
Finally life felt nice and
he made me realise
'Love can happen twice.'
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