keithgarrettpoetry

BROKEN GLASS

Without any shoes, I carefully walk,

Each step I take a chance to be cut.

All around me, I can’t see every piece,

One is sure to find me if cautious I’m not.

Where are my shoes, why aren’t they on,?

A lot safer I’d be, less chance to be hurt.

There’s broken glass everywhere,

Watch the way you step and you’ll not be wounded.

Keith Garrett

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