Put the Broken Things together
And see the bigger picture
Things that were once
Hoped to be a whole again
Something made together
But now I carry it alone
Or do u carry some of the Broken Pieces too?
Do you look down at your hands when the sharp edges cut?
Like glass it used to shine, tempered in fire, made on the sands of distant beaches
Now I look through those Broken Pieces
I see blood on my hands