Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Broken Brown Grass

I appeal to the eye and cut your fragile skin.
I seam harmless from a distance,
But I attract you and call you in.
I wait for your step, and stick to your foot
And laugh as I watch you cry out in pain,

I am not a gem,
I am not a stone,
I am thin, rough glass.
I shimmer in the sun,
And my glimmering color catches your eye.
For I am a piece of broken glass.

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