Everyone is a glass figurine,
Its only a matter of time before
Mine has a fracture in the wrist,
And a couple of scratches,
But still standing. I want to take it,
Place it down on a pedastal
With all the lights centring it,
I'll admire it for a moment,
Taking in the beauty of the light
Hitting it just right before
I take a bat swinging at it,
Smashing it, pieces flying across the room
Into the shadows, corners,
Lost under the skirting board
Only to be found by a hoover in the future.
Not at all caring the damage is too
Far gone, that my friends cut their fingers
Gathering the pieces, knocking them
Out of their hands when they present
The reminents to me to glue together.
All of the kings horses, and all the kings
men after all. I'll stare at the shards
Glistening and marvel at the art,
Selfishly I want to be in pieces,
I want to be the one using drugs
alcohol to avoid putting it back
Together and scream in freedom in
A room no one else can enter.
You can't break me if I shatter myself
First. For 5 minutes I want to be selfish
And not care about the aftermath,
Held together by my friends bleeding hands.
Nah, I will dust it and put it back on its shelf