Dark green

Broken poetry Broken poetry for a broken heart, Words so crooked, they speak a language I can't comprehend. In a world where I exist alone, With just my thoughts, in disarray, Broken poetry, can you help me heal? At 2am, when the world is quiet and still, My mind is in turmoil, seeking comfort that eludes my will. In this hour of darkness, my soul is alone, Seeking solace in a friend, with whom I can share this burden I've known. Though the night is young, and my thoughts are scattered, I yearn for a friend, with whom I can discuss what matters. Vivid plutonic souls, where are you?