This was not at my command.
It fell to floor, smashing into shards.
They all brushed it off in disregard.
I, however, was embarrassed.
It was a moment that is rarest.
Someone gasped, someone yelled.
My hand, it has rebelled.
The glass had fallen and shattered.
No one cared, but to me it mattered.
It had long broken before I was aware;
that glass and my hand are past repair.
Today was a reminder that this is forever;
I am my own deserter.
1 comment:
i am the guilty gasper. and you, my dear, are great. that's all. don't throw up.
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