Sixth

I feel like I am trying to mend a picture,
That may not look good when it comes back together;
Just the pieces of our hearts are scattered too apart for a fixture,
And I doubt if I'll ever again get to see them forever.

Blown in the storms of misgivings they were,
Shattered in the darkness of lost nights;
Burdened by the memories they share,
Of everytime when we gave in not wanting to hurt the other,
They tell now the tales of all those lost fights.

With you miles away from me,
I will wake up to a morning which didnt follow a night;
Also the one which doesnt seem to open up to a new day,
'Cause without you- the pieces- they just dont fit the right way.