Quill and ink gliding across the page,

creating something from the vault of the unknown.

The bright mind behind it

gears turning as it continues on.

All of a sudden the jar of ink falls to the ground.

It shatters into thousands of pieces.

The bright mind recalls the time when the person behind it caused a similar event.

The mind traveled down memory lane;

there was the girl who was known to be as clear as glass,

the girl who had done no wrong.

The mind created a reaction that was transferred to the heart.

The heart felt a harsh feeling of guilt.

The heart begged the mind to stop remembering the once-perfect girl

The girl who was now just like the glass scattered across the floorboards

But the mind should never listen to the heart

As the mind’s gears started to turn faster 

it started to think

Glass;

it comes in large pieces,

but it can also break into shards.

Some sharp, some blunt.

Shattered, scattered, never able to be put back together.

Reputation;

clean until tarnished,

easily impacted by those around you.

So similar to the glass from before.

Both alike and different,

as delicate as when they were first formulated.

One crack can let anything in and anything out.

One crack and never clear again.

As the gears slowed, the previous thoughts lingered.

The mind started a new story

of a girl who had done no wrong.

The girl who had forgiven,

but was never perfect again.