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S
                   h
                       a tt
                              er
                                  e
                                      d

                            S  c  a  t  t  e  r   d                 

                                 tumbling

                                 like

                              a

                                      bro ken

                           glass

                   jig
   
                         jagged

                                      pieces
    
                              of
                                       my

                       mosaic

                                          past

                           I

                                      fall

                                      into
                     
                                    shape

                                  giving in

                       to everything it takes

                   the splintering of a branch

                               that breaks

                    reaching out for the hand

                         of our glowing sun

                            where rain drops

                                        &

                               angel tears

                        run the vibrant veins

                  of these godly green leaves

                            makes ya stop

                                         &

                              wanna believe

              I gotta see everything for myself

                          a figment I've held

                      in my di s to rt e d mind

                       since my time began

                         a modest age ago

                      a million in one design

                         of destined dignity

                           has missed me

                            the grandeur

               of my most modest etiquette

                                 hoping

      my inhibited efforts have been adequate

                         it's incredibly hard

                                 to make

                                    your

                                  mark💎

                         on the thick skin
            
                    of lifes weathered hide

                     some just dont make it

                         but most of us try

                  natures natural resistance

                     to the wild fires of ego

                   burning in the wet winds

                    of a wicked permeance

                                     gone

              in the material world of wonder

               that we all seem to hide under

                          it's what we know

                   our new age human soul

                when will we be free to leave

                                free to go

                               to fall back

                      into a pragmatic place

                          where our shapes

                                        &

                                    colors

                        can never be replaced

                                 embraced

                          in this hardy frame

                                    full of

                               sc at te re d

                                 s h a rd s

                           cast into a prism

                     of technicolor perfection

              composed of our
                                              sunken
                                                            efforts

             from a vulnerable and broken past

                         captured madness

                    inside this perfect piece

                                        of

                             shattered glass


                                                        ELI