by Anna Jane Granniss
A broken song — It had dropped apart
Just as it left the singer's heart,
And was never whispered upon the air,
Only breathed into the vague "Somewhere".
A broken prayer — Only half said
By a tired child at his trundle bed;
While asking Jesus his soul to keep,
With parted lips, he fell fast asleep.
A broken life — Hardly half told
When it dropped the burden it could not hold —
Of these lives, and songs, and prayers half done,
God gathers the fragments every one.