Musings of the One Percent

Shattered, broken, beautiful

Each blow left new shards 

To litter my soul's floor 

I'm obsessed with fixing 

What's meant to be left broken 

I expect it all to fuse perfectly 

At the expense of bleeding palms 

In the middle of striving for 

The perfect glass devoid of cracks 

I realized the more broken pieces

The more beautiful the mosaic