I felt like I was a glass showpiece
Show me off when I'm in the showcase;
But then I slip through your fingers
Lying on the floor like I don't matter anymore.Some pick me up to cut wounds open
Some trip on me and curse that I'm foolish;
But how is it my fault that I'm broken?
Insignificant like the myths of a mistletoe.With edges like broken shards,
I cut too deep when they try to pick me up;
Why do they always forget that I,
I might be broken but that's what makes me sharp.I felt like I was the glass on a window
Rain hits me harder than words;
But just when the sun shone brightly on me
You pushed me out of the path.Some wipe me clean to look classy
Some spit on me to hide their dirt;
But how long will you use a glass piece?
It's bound to break at some point in the future.Shattered like broken glass
I'm way to slick but I cut to deep;
So don't ever forget that I,
I might be broken but that's what makes me sharp.
YOU ARE READING
Glass
PoetryEven when shattered in pieces I'm the sharpest of them all. I'm a glass, beautiful when together Stronger when I fall.