MY LIGHT IN THE ATTIC

The light beaming through the broken glass

The pieces stained with stories never told

Each shard smeared with a single chapter to interpret

What do they mean?

One might say

Some will answer

If you ask, you’ll never know.

The creaking footsteps from above

The quiet settling of dust in the air

Each glance introduces a different thought

Who could that be?

You may ask

I will answer

You must explore, or you’ll never know