Amphora
Sand in my eyes as the dust to dust finally settles
Smashed the hourglass against my head to stop the loop
Wish I could say I bettered myself, but there's a million unplucked petals
Forget me nots and notes and nopes in the soup
A watched pot never boils
A broken clock's right at least once a day
But i'm just a shattered amphora fresh from the kiln
And you're a sculptor fresh out of clay
Melt it down and try again? or Melt it down and try again?
"Would anybody want it?", enO asks, ever vigilant to the end
Though it's oft repeated, a ballpoint is barely sharper than the blade
Because despite a longer lifespan, both the pen and sword will fade
I'm living the sun soaked kind of life; a picture perfect kind of strife
Not oblivious to the chaos; just not ready to pull out the knife
The only thing holding me together has already torn me clean apart
Could a single inkwell spilling truly stain a weathered heart?