Broken Glass Read Count : 9

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

My hand reaches for the glass, only to find my grip has no hold.


It falls to the floor and the sound of it's shatter is heard throughout the house.


I reach down to pick up a piece of what was, only to cut my hand.


The blood runs, and I clean that wound.


I swept it only to leave a cut on the floor, a memory of what it was.

Comments

  • May 03, 2019

  • May 03, 2019

  • May 03, 2019

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