BROKEN GLASS

 The Broken glass. 

It was a promotional gift

But if I dwell my self with something 

I become so much concerned about it

Is it obsession 

I maneuver this glass so well

What happened to it 

I broked it, it was not my intention

My hands were wet, so they slipped off and fell

I was silent the moment it fell down. 

I became miserable, I blamed myself for the broken glass.

I lost my chance to feel my world around it. 

I planned to use it for shoots, my imagination tour. 

I  ended within a twinkle of an eye.

My broken glass you have been missed.

Forever hover around my mouth.

Your specialty makes me so absorbed with you.

I hope to have your kind of it.

IRENEBOADI THE POET