Then lose them in the maelstrom of the day

I thought that I had mended my old lamp
How beautiful it looked  beside the bowl
The shade fell off when I was walking past
I’m filled with sorrow,grief and wailing dole.

Everything I break brings thoughts of you
And when I write, I wonder what you’d think
No-one else will criticise my work
And into the quicksands I seem to sink

I burned ten pans and broke a dozen plates
I even broke a vase in the cafe
I  think of phrases subtle,erudite
Then lose them in the maelstrom of the day

I will learn to  live with broken heart
As humans  are not born with such spare parts