Eggshell city

Tue, 09/12/2017 - 21:36 -- Neftee

There is a fragile world with a city made of eggshells.
The ground is always cracked
And the people are made of glass.

Everyday the sun wakes to a newly toppled life.
It's light passes over
Piles of rubble that used to be
Or grand cathedrals.
It doesn't take much to break
The flimsy eggshell walls,
So they crumble at the slightest breeze.
They fall to the ground
And sprawl.

When I went there I saw a man loose his mind one night when he shattered his head on a realization.

His thoughts pulled his brains out through his glass skull
and his transparent being became a spiderweb of glinty edges when that realization was found to be too ground breaking for him to bare

He realized that he was a number in an ocean of dice,
And nobody in that transparent city would ever be seen.
Only the shimmer of their surface.

The people were stunned at his shattered being and how opaque the cracks made him.
I watched as they tried to hide him, and make him disappear,
But he would never be a seethrough man again.

I hear they had to finish off what his thoughts could not.
They figured a scattered man was better then a shattered one.
And they sifted his dust on the wind and forgot his name.

Id like to say I never went back again.
But I still haven't found all the peices of my brain,
And I'm sure that somewhere in that fragile city some fragments still remain.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world



This is beautiful.


Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it!

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