Explosions break the darkness

And we fall from the sky—

Blown to bits.

Pieces of each of us glitter

As they float down,

Tossed around by the wind,

Ever so gently,

Nearing the earth.

The others watch us,

Tattered and torn and filled

With angst as we fall.

We flutter about,

Sure not to destroy another

As we have been destroyed.

They stare into us

With wide eyes

Beneath furrowed brows,

But they cannot help us.

We are too damaged.

Though they may try,

With shaking hands,

To pick us up, dust us off,

And rebuild us,

They can’t.

We cannot be mended,

Or helped, or healed.

We are and always will be

Broken.