Reflections Of A Broken Glass

Reflections of a broken glass
Patterns of a distorted past
Covered by a gleam of colored dust
Vanishing with the light dying fast

Forgotten, the pieces stayed there
Until a hand reached out to care
Uncovered the roots of despair
Seeing a vision that was rare

Discovering its real presence
The pieces showed its true essence
Unmasked, beauty came to make sense
The hands uncovered greatness, hence

Scarred, the innocent hands became
Once were existing with no shame
Strongly blind to its new formed frame
The hands, the glass became the same.

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Langston Hughes

Dreams

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