Glass Poem by Rebecca Springsteen

Glass

Rating: 5.0


A glass,
in a window,
what is it to I?
Why must,
I care if it is full?
Empty,
cracked,
broken,
chipped,
scratched,
or foggy?
The glasses are everywhere,
yet I see them all as glasses.
All that don't want to be shattered.
Some want to float away.
Some want to break.
They are still glasses.
All are beautiful.

Friday, June 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: humanity,people
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