The Ides of March (2005 gold star)

Spring's blossoms are peeking
As I pack all my possessions.
The outdoors full of re-birth,
My world violently shattered.

And as the robin whistles
Her sweetest tune upon swaying branches,
Each taped box represents
A hole in my heart;
These wounds may never heal.

Was it really just three weeks ago?
My badly broken wing was ready;
Let's take off these bandages and
Try it again, gliding on my own.

But instead of tenderly nursing,
When I tried to take off from the ground,
I was pegged with heavy stones,
And fell horrifically from the sky.

I didn't even get a chance.

My mind pleads with dreaded panic,
"It doesn't have to be this way!"
But it's said and done, and I-
I alone can't take it back.

My dreams, all recklessly heaved
"This is the only way, so be it."
Then why is this rip in my soul
Bleeding so freely; profusely?

Complete anguish racks my body
The way drenched sobs filled my pillow
For these last few weeks
Every single night.

And as I step out into
Spring's crisp, bright blue smiles
With the promises of total fulfillment,
I close the door and lock away
What once was to be my happy life;
Now banished to the depths of
My severely broken heart.