Figurine

It takes a lot to create a glass figurine,

One with colors so vivid,

That you can’t pass it up,

One with shapes and grooves

From imperfect hands,

And little, jagged scars

That were fixed up

Along the way.

You see something so whole,

So perfect,

So unique,

And you take it as your own,

Because it's closer to complete

Than you will ever be.

But just like the way

You treat yourself,

You'll drop it,

And drop it,

And drop it,

And every dent and scratch will scream,

"If you keep this up, I'll break."

You can’t help but wonder

How much that would really take,

And then, the day comes

When the last blow sends shards of glass

Through a house, and a job, and a family,

And a life,

And the crumbling pieces look to you

For glue, or tape, or a hand,

But instead, you walk away,

Telling the mess that it should find

Someone else to clean up the sand,

Because you deserve a whole, new figurine,

Not to waste your timing cleaning

The shattered, scattered pieces

Of the one you broke that used to be me