Breaking Windows
There goes a arm, a leg,
flying with anger, sorrow, joy? Nothing?
I've shattered the window pains
of my eyes.
All the rain can flood through.
Hurry, hide the evidence!
But the mop is hard, sharp-tipped,
solidified with dirty rain
from the last time,
or was it the time before?
I really don't remember,
but there are stains on the floor.
Who's hands made?
Smooth, polished finish,
hurried dip to seal.
Shaded fault lines split
at each imperfection.
Slather with more polish, more shine.
Sparkle neatly,
tread softly,
breathe lightly.
Toes and heels threaten to shatter,
in a pace the sun could beat,
setting in the west,
still waking in the east.
Hair primped, bangs cut,
eyes open, eyes shut.
Frozen smile, frozen stare,
constant grip, held with care.
So tempt me closer distant breeze,
sway the strength from my knees.
The joints are cracking,
porcelain river seams.
Tender, take the pieces please.
A puzzle, match each pair to pair,
or grind them,
leaving dust to fair.
A softer burden left to bare.
Rising Stars Writing Guild
A guild built for writers of all skill levels to learn to become better writers.
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