She sits up high in the Curio
Enclosed in glass, protected
Looking out at the life about

Light highlights her grace
Waiting for someone to twist her base
At once her countenance changes

In circles she spins in tune
To the mechanical muse
Round and round she goes

In circles that lead nowhere new
Movement does not always
Equate to progress

At the end she begins again
The hollowness not belied
On her face that hides the lies

She prays silently
The glass and porcelain to be broken
Herself to be smashed against the walls

In shards
All is one
And she is freed


i was floored when I heard the song for the first time after writing the poem.

11 thoughts on “Shattered

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