To All The Broken People Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

</>To all the broken people,
Who wake up as the clocks impaled among walls croon,
There is more to life, yet too much to soon,
It sails away, into the immense, chartered moon
To all the broken people,
Who lost their appetite,
In a banquet, where the noise smites
Like thunder, like lightning, or everything in between
Sartorial fancies and plains under duress,
Do not worry, for time soon will caress,
And dress you with a skin of a true love’s kiss,
Or perhaps, a luck that makes the tides ebb and turn
Where the vast articulations of your whirring hearts churn,
There are photographs forgotten, photographs to burn,
Faces to acquaint, allegories to learn,
Moments to savor with a savvy, and then from then on,
You will march, away from all the broken people,
And enjoy the Earth’s supple amenities,
A stranger’s compliment, parallel universes,
Stray dogs that howl, birds that guffaw into symphonies
The dissonances will fade in the bliss,
And you will forge yourself not with regret,
But with love, that begets nothing but love in return,
Put your faith, and thread over your musings
As if a lost star finding its way back home,
You will find your way back home,
And your fractured night will ignite
With the sun to conjoin, so you can walk again
With vitality, with strength and keenness in eyes
To find a love that will last,
To find your God and cast stones upon the waters
To create ripples, to create turbulences
That rip the sea in two worlds:
A world for the past,
And a whole new world where you resurface,
Like another lost being in a sea of headless crowds
So this, to all the broken people,
Picture a day of ten thousand summer days,
And on the 9,999th day, you will come to say,
“One more day, and this is through.'