There is space
here.
fragments of smooth
clear glass, waiting for a
reflection
a story

a chance to shine.

We may fill this space
with dark shadows, or
blinding light
and beg for our friends to
see
understand what they cannot
possibly know.

And when all goes
to hell.
Which, in time
it always does

Who will be left behind?

What fragments will remain
when the rest are swept up
thrown away

forgotten.