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  • Writer's pictureQueen of Spades

Poetry Feature 6: Broken

Hello there. Queen of Spades here, continuing the celebration of National Poetry Month. From today until April 9th, the featured poetic selections will be coming from Eclectic.

Today's feature poem is entitled "Broken". Some parts of the rhythm scheme are inspired by the song "My Love" by Jill Scott. While you get familiar with the song, I'll put the poem below.


If my love is


Sweeter and


Why am I being treated like it’s

Looser than Jell-O;

Bitter like black coffee;

Lower that Hell’s depths?

Are you just incredibly cold

Or just that damn bold?

To lie in the bed we shared,

To act as if my warmth wasn’t there.

Technology is a great thing to have

Until applications glitch, exposing all the bad:

Discovering Heaven never resided in proximity

But was a few hundred miles away from me!

After that,

Everything just went black.

Silence shattered by loud blares;

Hues of red and blue filling the air.

Black disappears,

Leaving me the only one here.

Knocks on the door…

Feet feel like lead bricks

Slowly gliding on the floor.

Two sets of eyes in focus

But their words are far away,

Seemingly caught in a vacuum:

Yet three words manage to escape.

“Where is he?”

The man I love:

I think he died.

‘Cause the man I love knew he had it good at home!

The man I love knew I loved him back.

The man I love knew not to disrespect me.

The man I love knew how to act.

He knew I was a blessing in his life.

He knew I was the one destined to be his wife.

His family loved me and so did his friends.

He would have done nothing for this to end.

“Where is he?”

The man I love:

He must have died!

I don’t know why I hadn’t figured out

There was an imposter in my bed.

I think he put hoodoo on me.

Yeah, he put some wicked tricks in my head.

He had me thinking, had me believing

I was truly his one and only.

My close family actually dug him,

But he turned out to be a phony.

Yes, he died.

He died in my eyes last night.

I just wish I knew who took him away.

The vigilante in me wants to make him pay!

Those same two sets of eyes

Glance at each other.

Stare strangely at me…

Then I catch a glimpse in the mirror:





Covered in crimson

On a trembling body

Looking exactly like me.

Tune in tomorrow for even more from the unique collection Eclectic.

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