The vase

Time has passed,

Glass has shattered,

Flowers have wilted,

And water has spilled.

Pick up the broken pieces ; wipe the floor,

Don't dwell on your regrets of its breaking,

Don't dwell on how beautiful the vase used to be.


A memory as beautiful as a flower vase,

An aching heart as messy as a broken vase

This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741