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Rainbow Jars, a poem
Rainbow jars The jars I love The jars full of rainbows that bring me my will and happiness
All stocked up on pretty white shelves playing as cloud, quite pretty these jars are matching the pretty shelves like the hopeful streak in the sky that comes after the storm.
I want to hold a jar, of course, who wouldn't? With the urge, I do so. I pull a jar off the shelf, what a reckless thing to do. I'm not thinking, I drop the jar, my mind races, what have I done?
The sound of the of the shattering glass echoes through my head. I collapse to my knees attempting to hold the jar together. It fails, I helplessly watch the rainbow that was once in the jar faid away. I look at the rest, the rest of the jars I have lined up on the white shelf, then I look at the gap where the jar used to sit.
Though I have many more of the beautiful rainbow jars, it will never be the same without the one I have lost.
All stocked up on pretty white shelves playing as cloud, quite pretty these jars are matching the pretty shelves like the hopeful streak in the sky that comes after the storm.
I want to hold a jar, of course, who wouldn't? With the urge, I do so. I pull a jar off the shelf, what a reckless thing to do. I'm not thinking, I drop the jar, my mind races, what have I done?
The sound of the of the shattering glass echoes through my head. I collapse to my knees attempting to hold the jar together. It fails, I helplessly watch the rainbow that was once in the jar faid away. I look at the rest, the rest of the jars I have lined up on the white shelf, then I look at the gap where the jar used to sit.
Though I have many more of the beautiful rainbow jars, it will never be the same without the one I have lost.
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