BROKEN

Promises like glass—

so fragile and carried 

with delicate hands.

One misstep, and it all 

comes crashing, falling 

in an unexplainable fashion.

My golden glass never reached 

its final stage. It has been bruised 

over and over,

and glazed 

repeatedly. It has been

scorched by the suns of 

mistrust, and all that remains

are the broken shards 

of nothingness. 

©Oladapo Oluwamayowa