We strive for something more,
Peace,
That let’s us feel relief and content
But to feel that relief
There needs to be something..
Unpolished, impossible
In your life
To make the perfect moments;
Perfect

Crack crack, you hear, the lens from which you view the world fell from your ***** hands, onto the cold hard ground.
You move too late. The people walking demand for you to get out of the way. In an instance you drop, the lens out of view. Left to be stepped on by the soles on everyone’s shoes.
Without it your left to fear, a tear falls but no one sees, you surely can’t.
Again you try to grab on, your hands shake, yet you succeed. Once again you put on the blurred lens, this time more blurred and cracked, and you continue to walk until your shaking hands drop it again,
crack crack, you hear.