Eventually, It all comes down to pieces, Bits of people pottery Left behind in flowerbeds And dug up When rough fingers Work the soil. Pastly and willowed Water and war marked How did you come to break? What rough egdes met To wear you to point the blame Cut and quick to judge, Vessel that filled with hate And quickly spent its uselessness Upon the slabs.
Or did aged shakes Dislodge you from Weakened fingers And bitter tears wash you away With all the memories Centuries from the sky?
Perhaps, playfully You were pinched Sticky fingers Stealing childish treaures Carried from domestic shores To mystic lands Of imagination. Were you blamefully broken Innocence ending For the journey back Indoors? Press ear to shard And I can still hear the call