Two Pieces Of Broken Glass Poem by Vani Agarwal

The tips of his fingers are like the ends of his dreams,
because whatever he would glide his finger over,
it only screamed.
what seemed perfect and custom made,
was just momentary too soon did it fade.
When he thought he did it and ends finally met,
did he realise the picture in the frame never actually set.
Just like fractured bones,
some like million dollar phones,
like the little larger cap,
like the teeth and the gap.
like the sun and the snow,
like the high that was low.
trying was as good as failure for never did it show,
it only kept piercing him like your coldest foe.
But he knew that this too would pass,
for his dreams were just two pieces of broken glass.