How frail and brittle everything looks
Through the little window pane,
The glass that glosses over, yet it never takes the pain
The cracks that crackle in circles;
The eddies of experiences, entrapping
When they crystallize like that piece of glass
To break at the slightest blow
To fall into pieces…
The broken glass, the splinters of my being;
- if only with time I had learnt to flow?
No comments:
Post a Comment