Looking Up

so this is it

the end we wanted

this is what it came to

glass flowers

clinking in the wind

all fractured from

holding light within

shatter lines

of memory

echoing

the honesty we lost

so this is it

there should be color

seeping through the grain

to remind

of what we fought for

what we're owed

or is it this

that we deserve

a field of broken fragile things

still held together by

a hope that hurts

it might be blue

on the horizon

breaking through a white-full sky

it might be blue

my eyes are on the ground