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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It was a cloudy Easter Sunday. I went over to my grandmother's house for dinner. We were getting ready to set the table. When she told me to get the champaign glasses ready. As I reached into the cupboard. 0ne glass missed my grip falling to the floor. Hundreds of glass shard covered the floor. It was the same champaign glass that I used on my sweet 16. The sweet 16 that made me realized that I lost my father. The shattered pieces of glass reminded me of the day. The day he broke my heart. I remembered promises which were never kept and trust broken. Like the glass I was looking at now. He told me he would come. Come to my sweet 16, PTA meetings,graduation and prom. He never did,leaving me to wonder. What was more important than his little girl? I never found an answer. I began to collect the pieces. As I lifted them from the ground. I cut my finger and a small drop of blood appeared. The pain was sharp. And as I looked at the cut I understood. It was like the pain that my father caused. It was unpleasant. But fleeting and it would heal if I gave it some time. Leaving nothing but a faint scar. I collected the pieces and threw them out. As I looked for the last time at the glass. The glass that symbolized my coming into maturity, I thought that my father missed out on the good things. The good things that happened to me in my life. And as I closed the garbage pail. I thought that it doesn't matter anymore. He lost.... He lost a relationship he can never recapture.
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