The day the world shattered ,
I met a glass man
Standing on the sidewalk,
Counting cars that passed.
He stared for a moment
At me, trudging down -
Down the long, gray, bare hill.
The man wore a suit,
And a silken tie was
Tucked neatly under
Stiff fabric. And he asked,
"Why do you trudge so,
Down the long, gray, bare hill?
Has something happened,
That I am unaware?"
I stared at the shards
Littering the sidewalk -
Shards of lives, scattered
Shards of the world, shattered.
I stared at the hill.
Down the long, gray, bare hill
There ran a deep crack -
Ran a long, black, deep crack.
I stared at the man
And knew he could not see
The white shards - black crack.
Just the long, gray hill
And me. Nor could he see
The darkness, swirling
Just above his collar,
Just enough to see,
Hidden inside the glass,
Covered by the suit.
But the world had shattered,
And now I could see
The white shards, the black crack.
I saw through the glass -
Saw the darkness, swirling.
I stared at the man
And I shrugged. "It's nothing."
I said, and walked down -
Down the long, gray, bare hill -
Black crack beside me,
White shards on the sidewalk
Cracking underfoot.