While the pesky bums
Dropping malodorous bombs
I see my love
Oh! How steadfast
Busy collecting the crumbs
Of a shattered, porcelain heart
In a little padded pouch
While keeping my soul
From each insatiate grouch
A couple of sharp crumbs
Under my clay feet
Have pierced through and through
Not a drop of blood - Lo! Still upbeat
For, the blood is blue
That gushes through
This barely propped up porcelain heart!

Saif U'Lah - 21 October, 2007