I'm broken glass,
I slipped threw your fingers and shattered a crossed your floor,
Surrounding your feet making it impossible to walk away from the mess,
You felt guilty because I was your mothers favorite glass,
You stared at me for only a few minutes before taking the risk and walking slowly away,
You picked up a broom an swept me away,
I was broken glass tossed into the trash,
You again felt guilty for breaking your mothers favorite,
So you gathered up your money and bought a new one,
You placed the shiny new favorite on the shelf,
You never second glanced the mess in the trash.
Why? Why wasn't I good enough?
I was just shattered glass you left in the trash, you replaced, and forgot about.