The Cost Of Broken Hearts Poem by Emmanuel Arunee Mwanza

Imagine if we paid for the hearts we broke,
If those we damaged awoke,
Demanding reparations for the love we took—
How many of us would have anything left to give back?
Would we even dare to gaze at the past?

Imagine all those hearts, shattered like glass,
Some pieces swept into trash,
Some we tried to bind, but still, they slipped through—
Too damaged to hold, too broken to renew.
Could we ever find a way to make reparations due?

Perhaps the answer lies beyond the stars,
In distant galaxies where wisdom resides—
A place where hearts and minds align,
To learn, to care, to pay what's owed,
Not with gold, but with the kindness we show.

For people are what make this world alive,
To hurt them is to dim the light inside.
Reparations begin not with what we repay,
But with how we love, each and every day.