Piece by piece, shard by shard,
I put it together, my broken mirror,
And just for a second, I see myself,
My hands are cut, my face is gaunt,
But I know things will be okay.
I go to reach the fruit of my labour,
And with my touch, it all breaks down,
And I along with it.
They tell me to breathe, it will all be okay,
As they step on all I've ever worked on and hoped for
And ask me what's wrong.
Every piece I can place,
I can picture everything,
All I've ever expected,
And I can feel the moment, the cuts on my hands,
When they fade and shatter,
My wings have been clipped.
And I build, and I build, and will it ever be enough?
I miss those few happy days,
When I was blind to the cracks,
And my mirror seemed whole.
Now no matter how much I try,
Whatever I touch turns to dust.
Too scared to fix things,
Too cowardly to end it all.
Piece by piece, shard by shard,
I build my broken mirror.
I watch as it crumbles again, the image changed forever,
And I can't help but take the blame.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryThese are some poems I wrote. Some are about the damage we have done. Some are about me. Some are just random.
