I stand before,
Like a little piece,
Before the whole
The frame was there,
But not much else,
What once was glass,
Now turns to dust.
Sand it was,
And so is now,
The mirror's face,
The reflection is gone.
A kick, and a whack,
To this, it did stand,
A push and a shove,
And it's gone as sand.
When the first crack?
Oh, who can say?
It started out small
And grew away.
The mirror shattered
its face was split
It's identity's baffled,
It's honor rent.
"Which is me?"
And it all cries the same
As it looks to its pieces
And fears the shame.
The shatter has happened,
it's all been rent,
Now to puzzle the pieces,
Without a hint.
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