Fragments
Why is it
that I find myself
stuck
in a picture frame
so often?
I resent being
trapped
with a smile
painted on by command.
I must be a self-seeking person
for resenting the only thing in my life
that’s no longer
broken.
No longer in pieces.
Fragments.
An eye for an eye,
a piece for a piece of
your
broken
life.
Because your argument
has more sanity
than your point,
and your point
has more sanity than
this world’s
crazy, corrupt
vanity.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world