The Piece of Glass

The Piece of Glass

A piece of glass I see

Lying on the ground by its lonesome

It must tell a story

The light it reflects of so handsome

How many things it's seen

But then came to its shattered end

The reflection was keen

But laid to rest without hope of mend

So, where did it come from?

It is the only piece around me

It is but a small crumb

To where did its other small friends flee?

It's a sad piece of glass

It's a camera lost in a big field

Was it thrown by a blast?

Its soul could not be a behind a shield

Around me it's quiet

The empty buildings are silent too

Was it a past riot?

Or can this piece of glass be a clue?