Glass

A pane of glass
In perfect form
Left alone
To serve it's purpose
But once the glass breaks
And becomes free of it's seal
It's considered dangerous
And immediately removed

 

so true, i like it

 

and they would if they could, make us all something so dead, a mere tool for the furthering of their wealth, but we are something more than a raw material, turning abruptly in their hands as they try to handle us, bleeding them, and laughing, beyond the graves of landfills.

much love