aren't we all just messed-up pieces?
like broken shards of colored glass?
each
piece
each
piece
representing a different time when we lived,
we loved,
we were alive,
and then
we were left,
shattered,
only to find we had another purpose in being left behind.
for else who could take the light from the sun and tear it apart into a million colors,
but the glass mosaics that we had become.
and now when the light passes through,
selected,
but our torn hues.
the myriad colors of the unbeatable sun,
dancing,
with glee.
then,
then,
for any who looked within us,
or beyond where the light hit the ground they would see,
glinting and shimmering,
® Original Poem by Meowter Space