Glass

I felt like I was a glass showpiece
Show me off when I'm in the showcase;
But then I slip through your fingers
Lying on the floor like I don't matter anymore.

Some pick me up to cut wounds open
Some trip on me and curse that I'm foolish;
But how is it my fault that I'm broken?
Insignificant like the myths of a mistletoe.

With edges like broken shards,
I cut too deep when they try to pick me up;
Why do they always forget that I,
I might be broken but that's what makes me sharp.

I felt like I was the glass on a window
Rain hits me harder than words;
But just when the sun shone brightly on me
You pushed me out of the path.

Some wipe me clean to look classy
Some spit on me to hide their dirt;
But how long will you use a glass piece?
It's bound to break at some point in the future.

Shattered like broken glass
I'm way to slick but I cut to deep;
So don't ever forget that I,
I might be broken but that's what makes me sharp.