Earth is a bowl full of precious jewels. It fell and shattered along with all the gems that were contained inside. We now stumble upon all the shattered pieces piercing our feet. Take a look at all the people looking for love. That is us trying to put the bits together. Fear not, we will all be one again. There will be peace rather than pieces. Do not worry if Father sees the mess. He already knows and has come with a broom to clean up the mess and heal all our wounds.
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Broken
PoetryI wrote the first two, and possibly only two, parts to "Broken" months ago. As I write some other stories I notice 'The World' and 'The People' fits in or sort of relates so I add the parts in somewhere. Here are the pieces alone. Here is the origin...
