I know the tales of broken voices,
Gleaming with pain, weaving anguish.
I know the tales of broken fingers,
Worn with slavery and servitude.
I know the tales of broken legs,
That had once grazed sere, unpromised fields.
I know the tales of broken hearts,
Shattered into zillion fragments.
I know the tales of broken minds,
Walking hand in hand with crazed heads.
I know the tales of broken futures,
Soaked in blur and doubts.
I know too many broken tales,
Too broken to be told in whole with my broken mouth.
What do you think?