Sands of Glass
I stand on a beach of broken glass.
Sands tossed by time, filled with the past.
Bottles smashed around to and fro, here then there.
Thrown about by everyone without any real care.
I look beyond sea to a place of black glass.
It may be an evil place or maybe just grass.
Bottles float in the water with notes of love gone by.
I dreamt of a place where love never really dies.
I've read so many notes that have washed up to shore.
They are not for me, so who are they for?
All I ever really get from anywhere is broken glass.
Deep scars of pain as the bottle was cast.
Their notes have always been messages written in vain.
Long ago created to cause me deep-rooted pain.
Now diamonds and pearls are floating on in.
It's hard to discern if they'll be broken glass again.
I hold my head high with diamonds in my hand.
With bare feet I walk around upon this sand.
It's hard to tread lightly on this blanketed amass.
So, I'll just stand here in one place, bleeding on glass.
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