You can think of people a vases Each one is unique Each holds something special inside... Or maybe nothing at all
Some are in perfect condition Some are lightly chipped While others... They are smashed on hard tile
Each one has seen the passing of different things Each has a personality all it's own But yet... People tend to like them better when they are matching
The truth dear is I need your help In pasting my vase back together... Just don't try to find or understand it's hidden contents
that will tear me apart
More old poetry. An English translation of a poem written in horrific french when I was in like 8th grade. The English version isn't that great either, lol.