A decision is made. The egg had it been allowed to hatch would have produced a chicken yet as it is broken it begins as an ingrdient in the start of something else. So ends the life of a chick but the beginning of an omelet.

So I see Harry as the broken and compromised boy/man who is revived as the Man, the Savior, the Survivor.

Woah...that's pretty much my reaction. It must have been difficult to say what you wanted while maintaining a rhyming pattern. Usually trying to rhyme hurts the flow of a poem, but yours sounded like something published in the New Yorker. Your words made a lot of sense to me, and expressed emotion extremely well. I can't wait to read more of your poetry!

I'm in total awe... Your poetry is absolutely amazing. The imagery that you use is brilliant. I love the line about how an egg "weeps into the depths;" the yolk falling into the bowl really does remind me of tears. This poem is a total masterpiece; it's going in my favorites!