A Million Pieces [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

The day was a beaut, everything bad turned into
something good, even the text on my desk was
interesting as I tackled each subject carefully; I
even had good rapport with Scorpio - and then

an inevitable sting in the tail - that rebuke for my
interfering and telling the most dependable, loyal
person on earth to slack off and relax - it earned
her a demerit mark; oh, the hurt look in her eyes

as Scorpio called her integrity into question - but
it was all MY fault for telling her to not overwork -
I had betrayed her trust, injured her honour and
now this scintillating day has turned into ashes

as my face's burned and my heavy heart laden
with self-reproach; I'd held the finest porcelain
day in my hands, a most fragile joy - and it fell
to break into a million pieces…