Wounded Glass Poem by Dennis Beus

The harshness of life melts the cold steel
Until gone is the barrier that makes
Us blind.

I see the tattered pieces of metal
Learning the ways that people kill.

Floods still stalk the cities tremble in
Fear ... the terror of someone left
Without a meal.

Don't touch the glass just mirrored echo
Of my past -- too late wounded glass.

Then suddenly one foot was enough to stand
Through the tumble in grace.

Like to see the white cliffs of Dover before
I break in two, because I must find my place.

In the background I heard a piano whisper to my
Soul, "Don't let the glass break."

I tumbled back to the fold ... then with a
Blink I stood inside the glass that bleeds.

Don't' touch the glass it's just a mirrored
Echo of my past.