Life's Vase

Life Life is often Like a shattered vase On the tile floor Scattered fragments With jagged edges Clinging to the floor In a puddle of water All it takes is one nudge One careless bump One poor choice Sends it spiraling down Scrambling to fix it Fingers brushing glass Pain erupting along your hand Glowing red-hot pain You wish you could fix it Hold it together Cover it in tape You wish With sore hands, you walk To the sink Running hands under the tap Pain smarting in your palms Finally, with bandaged hands And a sore heart You sweep up the broken fragments Into a little pan Slowly you paste The little shards back into place Filling the cracks It doesn’t happen overnight But after a while You no longer remember that it was broken It looks almost the same The cracks do show But the vase holds Standing proudly in the window Holding firm to the sill And the marks on your hands They fade And you almost forget the pain And the vase remains