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Egg Shells.

Slightly broken,

I walk on

the egg shells

that surround

the subject

of you,

careful not to breathe,

think

or murmur

your name,

for you

dear egg shell

are nothing to many now

that your inside was proved

to be the reason

that people’s

hearts broke.

Ian D. Hall 2016

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This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged Egg Shells, poetry by Ian D. Hall, poetry from Bootle., poetry from Liverpool on September 7, 2016 by admin.

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Ian D Hall


Click to find out more about Ian D Hall

Email Ian at bluesquonk@hotmail.co.uk

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