I am whole
At a quick glance: normal
A perfect shape
Round and radiant
Full and exquisite
I have a place
On the kitchen table
Where you walk past every day
To store your trinkets in me before
You remove your shoes
I am broken
See here—my cracks!
Dusted off and put back together
Outlined in gold
For all to see
I am discarded.
Thrown away
Into the trash
Hidden from the light
In the farthest reaches of the bin
That You take to the curb
I have a place
On the top of the pile at the dump
Surrounded by trash
Lost and forgotten like me.
No one will walk past me ever again
A kind smile on their face
A whisper on their tongue
The sun will set tonight
And it will be the last one I see.
