The mirror laughed
At the weeping girl
In the reflection
How can something
Not made of glass
Get so easily broken?

A father's grave
Cursed the widowed fool
Blaming her the fate
Of their bereaved son
How did that soft-skinned baby
Become a stony-hearted man?

The altar recited a reading
Of a kneeling priest's sins
His hands and feet danced
for his thousandth prayer
How can he mend himself
Before fixing somebody else?

An empty suitcase
Murmured the frustrations
Of a wealthy couple
Turned from riches to rags
How could their friends desert them
And so did their love?