A Broken Glass
A Broken Glass
A glass, made of fine porcelain
With carvings, too intricate to know,
Slipped, slipped and it went down,
Away from my hand...
It rolled, shined perhaps the last time,
No noise it made until it touched
The white marble and turned it red.
Red, the pain ran in my veins
Red, the blood, red the broken heart...
Oh, the blink of an eye was all it took.
From one to a million, the glass shattered.
Before it was 'we', now 'you and me'.
And life spilled all around 'you and me'.
Pieces, myriad, memories of 'you and me'...