If broken men were like broken glass
then he'd be the jagged edges of a
smashed beer bottle - belligerent,
defensive, and prone to fighting
     because of the cheap drink flooding his veins in hopes of forgetting every and anything come the next morning.

If broken men were like broken glass
then he'd be the crack in his last bowl
as it gets bigger unable to contain
himself or his problems -
     unable to keep everything in one place, as it spills and pours into other areas of his life.
    
If broken men were like broken glass
then he'd be the various mirrors
around his house that he punched in,
7 years of bad luck for each -
     the reflection taunting and crooked everytime he so much as glances at one out of habit.

If broken men were like broken glass,
then he'd be a light bulb that burst
from its own luminescence - that
was too much to hold in its surroundings
     that's deemed useless since it can't perform its primary function.

If broken men were like broken glass,
then he'd be the splintered fragments of photo frames - the shards embedding
into the pads of his fingertips
     as he tries in vain to piece it back together again, to make it whole again, to make it picture perfect again.

If broken men were like broken glass,
then how does one handle a heart?
Is this why so many are callous to
the destruction they cause?
      Indifferent to the wreckage that follows them wherever they go?

Or are they afraid of themselves,
afraid of being naturally sensitive and
vulnerable, afraid of reincarnating into
the pieces of glass that they break?

Maybe it is both or neither, even, but
the destructive behavior of men are not
isolated incidents ...
It is phenomena that spans across the globe.

If the concept of Man exists outside of this world,
would they exhibit the same fragility too?