Starlight falls upon the broken glass,
The wind whispers in my ear.
The once whole bottle is my once whole self.
It stood tall with luster.
The body’s curves were, just right.
The edge of the lip was full and smooth.
It sat upon the shelf, a perfect model;
No one could deny. Gleaming elegantly
With purpose, holding a pure golden liquid.
Then someone took that bottle and deprived it
Of all its meaning. Drained its soul of all emotions
And feelings. So that it was just an empty bottle,
Useless and barren, to be smashed against the ground.
Leaving diamond shards upon the floor.
They cut my feet open. And warm blood spills,
Dulling the reflective edges.
Life held meaning, but no more.
It is empty, broken, glass.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poems
شِعرPoetry is not easy. It takes the right words in the right spot. It needs just the right punctuation. Or perhaps none at all? (Using line breaks to create two separate meanings perhaps?) Allusion, metaphor, simile, form, stanza, caesura, alliteration...
