Shattered Pieces of Life

You never think if it's going to happen to your own, That terrible tumbling down of building blocks, so lovingly placed. The romantic gesture, starry eyed looks, Plans for the future, once a forever-and-evertime, and now forgotten. And all because, "it's not working out". She's not happy. I'm angry, and sad. They were the future, the got-it-right-this-time couple. But deep down I could see a motive, all along, a means to an end. End it did, not amid shouts, or flying crockery, no drama, But with a sigh of, "ifs not working out" and, "I leave at the end of the week". I'm sad and angry, in silent protest I've removed the wedding scene from the shelf. Now comes the rebuilding of confidence, The scraping from the floor, shattered pieces of life, the substance that goes on. Through hidden tears I will back him all the way, as Mothers do. Convince him it is but the beginning of his second chance to find happiness, That unseen state of mind that everyone deserves to find, at least once. Now I must be strong enough to remove the tumbled rubble from my mind. Greet him with a tearless face, he wouldn't want a fuss. Tactfully suggest helpful devices, bringing order out of tragic chaos. Not say too much about my feelings for her, if those feelings exist at all. He will overcome, in time; and pray to see his eyes light up again.

Mixed bag