The Broken Hearted Poem by Scott J. Shepard

If any metaphor so amour propre
had made one a believer, so then let it be love forever.

Any of love's languages worn like the coats of
constellations, caressing the earth like armor,
as to say his imagination loved all his creations.

Or touched that which spoke to him again
and again as a child's redemption. Given back
to heavy hands, placed upon our shoulders.

So as to love ourselves like anyone's given gift.
Like any fighting solider.