Five Shards

I was the one

Who broke the vase

All its pieces

Shattered on the floor

 

And so I’m sorry

That you had to pick them up

And sort through the ruins

One by one

 

The first shard

Marks my mind

That is so twisted and locked

Lost in an endless labyrinth

 

The second shard

Marks my wrist

With scars that were never too deep

But screamed louder than words

 

The third shard

Marks my change

When you picked it up

My storm began to settle

 

The fourth shard

Marks my recovery

And you and I

Began to glue the pieces back together

 

The last shard

Marks my heart

For everything I’ve come to love

And this shard is you

 

And so I thank you

For changing the story

That is engraved
Upon my vase

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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