Broken Glass

by Biljana Petrova
(Skopje, Macedonia)

Sweeping pieces of glass
Underneath the carpet
Hoping that no one else would see.

The all-seeing eye isn't immune
To neglect and misery.

Complicated pictograms and simple
Swear words render the scene serene.
For it doesn't mean a thing.
Being neither here nor there
Doesn't mean a thing.

Madness and glory
Vain anger broken in vain.
No poison for the calm soul.
Certainly no pain.
No harm done.

That's the end of the story.
This time I know better.
This time I feel better.
Top of the world.
No carpets on my floor.
Nothing to hide underneath.
As the night falls I fall asleep
With ease.
I know I am right.
And no amount of broken glass
can take that away from me.
No big deal.
It's a breeze.