Shattered

There is something beautiful in broken glass.

Being pushed closer and closer to the edge 

of the shelf,

Inside a warped and broken display case.

Being poked and prodded at because 

 

‘Oh they can take it’

 

Feeling alone and isolated in a place

meant for comfort. 

As the edge of the shelf draws 

Closer and Closer.

Their cries for help fall on deaf ears,

 

In the moment they fall they turn their

eyes back to the shelf they once called home. 

They don’t feel sadness or sorrow.

They feel pain, but not for themselves.

For they have yet to hit the ground.

 

No, in their moment of freefall 

they feel the pain of the spot 

they left behind. 

An empty whole in an already

broken display case. 

One that will take far too long 

to discover,

One that can never truly be filled.

 

For the most beautiful and

painful sight in life,

Is the broken glass of a person's soul. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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