The Museum Piece

Here I sit in darkness, resting for centuries.

My life before was so vibrant,

colorful,

useful.

But no one wants a broken vessel.

No one can used a cracked vase.

They cast you aside and replace you

with something new,

something whole,

something useful.

The cold earth presses around me, suffocating.

Until suddenly a light,

the sky,

warm hands greet me.

There is excitement.

I have been found!

Was I lost?

Now I have a new life, a new purpose.

Broken vessels are desired,

Cracked vases can be used.

Here I sit in light, resting in a protective case.

My second life is bright,

educational,

useful.