Broken Glass
Broken glass…
When you try to pick it up piece by piece
You will see how the jagged edges rip through the creases of your skin
As the red of your blood gushes on the floor
And only more
Will pour
As you sit in pain
You decide whether to pick up the rest of the glass
Or
Will you pass
And tend your needs…
Most would proceed
And stop the bleed
Now just imagine
This glass as a soul
And their only goal
Is to be able to unroll into someone’s arms
Once they found one who raise no alarms
Because they have shown they will do no harm
But after awhile
They start to fake a smile
When they hear the other’s name
Long after the game was played
After everyone thought the memories would fade
But the name still cuts like a blade
This soul is still broken
You can’t tell their soul is that way
It’s not as obvious as glass on a floor
But when you pick up the broken pieces
They both hurt the same,
So it’s up to you
Are you willing to stay and be willing to pick up the pieces?
Or will you leave for your own reasons?
~12-14-17~
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