I am a beautiful glass vase.
Maybe not to many, but I am to some.
Some would want me,
But some wouldn't care enough to not drop me.
Maybe it was an accident,
or maybe I'm just another vase to them.
There will always be another vase.
I would like to be held nicely,
like there won't be another vase.
Someone to have kept me whole,
but now I'm many.
I can't be held without breaking apart and falling through your fingers.
The only thing that can hold me now is Time.
It picks me up and with the wind, that's where I shimmer.
Time takes me everywhere and nowhere,
and time makes them both amazing places.
I may not be same vase that I used to be but
Time reminds me that I will always be a beautiful glass vase.
YOU ARE READING
The Vase in The Sand
PoetryWhen I first wrote this poem, It was originally a story called "The Sands of Time". It was supposed to be about a beautiful vase that kept getting dropped until it turned into sand but even when it was sand, it never stopped believing that it was a...
