shattered many times,
each time I lose a piece or two,
a tiny splinter (or a few);
yet build me back—
i’m good as new.
yes, maybe with a lot of glue,
some duct tape—yes, a bolt, a screw,
perhaps i‘ll be a stronger whole
(bolster me with iron pole).
perhaps i’ll never miss those pieces,
tiny splinters of my soul.

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