Contact Us      
         Join today or login
You are using an outdated version. Writing will not be shown properly in many cases. Click here to use the current version.


New Here?
Sign Up
Fast! Three Questions.

Already a member?


5-7-5 Poetry Contest
Deadline: In 3 Days

Free Verse Poetry Contest
Deadline: In 4 Days

Horror Writing Contest
Deadline: In 6 Days

Four Line Poem
Deadline: Jan 25th

20 Line Poem
Deadline: Jan 27th


Poet: None
Author: None
Novel: None
Votes: None

    Poem of the Month Contest Winner 
 Category:  Biographical Poetry
  Posted: April 19, 2017      Views: 572

Print It
Save to Bookcase
View Reviews
Rate This
Make Reader Pick
Promote This

This work has reached the exceptional level
Stand in my shoes
"He Broke My Heart" by jlsavell


It was inevitable. I know me. Often,I fall to shattered. Still I keep doing it. Over and over. 

Those eyes of his- piercing, sharp, sad. His face mapped like the rugged terrain of a hard fought war. Unshaven, deliberately. Lips thin, soft and weathered. The slightest upturn in the corners-as if to say- I was happy once. I think he was younger than he appeared to be. Afraid to ask. His well worn chambray shirt begged  mending. Rolled to the elbows. Muscular but thin arms, large calloused hands. A bit shakey. Nervous perhaps. He walked with a slight tilted gait . Slow, cautious. Had his style changed from youth? His virile days of manhood. I am sure. Broad shoulders bent ever so a tad. Possibly from the weight of life's burdens.- but still staunch enough to detect a certain pride. We gazed deeply. Infinitely. Boring into each other's souls. His eyes averted quickly toward the darkening horizon. He returned with a hesitant smile. Warm and sensitive, though visibly worn and tarnished from a day's pack. Still... he was drawing. 

Thunder rumbled. Rain began to fall gently. He folded his day's advertisement with skill. Invited me to sit. This humble abode. Scattered paper cups. Discarded butts. A rumpled newspaper weighted by a special cap. Much I could say. We talked. We laughed. He was so much like me. His dreams held close to the bosom of his spirit. Afraid to let them go, for he knew not how to chase them. 

I  rose to leave. We shook hands- this man and I- crossing each other's world- for a moment. Just a moment in time. Returning to my car, I cried. 

priceless belongings
held in a grocery cart
homeless Veteran
Poem of the Month
Contest Winner


Author Notes
Written from my iPhone. No picture.

My experience today. Lake Charles, La.

Thank you for reading
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Share or Bookmark
Print It Save to Bookcase View Reviews Make Reader Pick Promote This
© Copyright 2016. jlsavell All rights reserved.
jlsavell has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

You need to login or register to write reviews.

It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

Interested in posting your own writing online? Click here to find out more.

Write a story or poem and submit your work to receive reviews on your writing. Publish short stories on our book writing site and enter the monthly contests. Guaranteed reviews for everything you write and you will be ranked. Information.

  Contact Us

© 2016, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement