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~