segunda-feira, 27 de agosto de 2012

Broken glass is trash.

There is a barrier in my life I may never surpass
Inspite of the hardness shouting from my core
I am like a frail, easily breakable kind of  fine glass
Desperately hoping not to be accidentally dropped on the floor
But when it happens, I wait for you to clean up the mess
Wishing my parts on the floor are not stepped on anymore

While you gently gather my broken parts
A screaming sound of me scratching thy ground is heard
I, then, leave on the clean shiny floor of yours my marks
And by you, I am harshly thrown away under no gentle word
Silently and patienlty you watch me while my body departs
Wondering how a pretty fine glass could cause so much absurd

I then tell you before I am finally taken away
That I cause abusrd because from absurd I am an effect
Due to cause and effect I was found on your unlucky highway
I would not stay longer than that, as a matter of fact
However you told me to leave with no longer delay
And you got rid of the broken me as you do with an insect.

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