Stained Glass
Crushing, breaking, moments come
Shattering life into so many pieces
Changing it with its catastrophic pain
Coloring it with its unconscionable stain
Leaving us with fragments frayed
And washed in the fountain of our tears
And they no longer seem presentable or fit
Our fears and failures we have to admit
Or perhaps from the hand of another
We’ve been wounded and torn asunder
The pieces scarred and bloody still remain
Why oh why, is our constant refrain
We had hoped up front for a work of art
It’s how you finish and not your start
But life has shattered our dreams to bits
Hard to find beauty when nothing fits
Yet the pile of pieces has accumulated still
Heartaches and troubles come at will
But at the end we shall all say, Alas
My life is a beautiful work of stained glass