Some, come across broken souls,
unable to mend them.
Yet, insist they must.
Picking up the shattered pieces.
Inevitably, in the process,
wounding their own hands.
And through that pain
comes their lesson:
     If it is not yours to fix,
     it is okay to leave it broken.

And here
we all stand
on the fragile surface
of mundane ideals;
a billion tiles
of hopes and dreams,
glued together by blind belief.
A safety net cradling you
from what is below;
the dark
empty
numbing pit
of a meaningless existence