Broken Compass

It's hard being
A broken compass
Point hanging askew
People ask
"Are you OK?"
You lift your steely gaze
And say

"I'm a broken compass
I can't do nothing right!
What is the point?"

But you're still you
Point hanging askew
All steel and cold
And hurting through and through

You just need to be held
In a warm hand
Reattached and realigned
And you'll be drawing
Perfect circles again.