Made to be Broken

I wish that the marriage had been what it seemed.
That first month or six were a shared, lovely dream.
Or at least they thought so. It helped them to sleep
Through the consummate promises they couldn't keep.

He told her to keep the ring as a token.
Perhaps hearts are made to be broken.

When a part of one's life of such magnitude ends
It's natural that he should fall back on his friends.
The best way not to think of her was just not to think,
So in twos, sometimes threes, his friends took him to drink,
To build up his courage. It worked, and as proof,
He climbed out of his bottle and up to the roof.

“Jesus Christ,” they said, “you must be jokin'.”
Perhaps legs are made to be broken.

Now unable to walk meant unable to work.
He began to find other things he could shirk,
Like his support payments for kids he stopped seeing,
Or going out in the day, to avoid their chance meeting.
If it weren't for the strength that he drew from the beer,
It's doubtful he would have survived that first year.
As it was, he made that by the skin of his teeth;
Wrapped his car 'round a tree at a year and one week.

So many apologies, forever unspoken.
Perhaps lives are made to be broken.