**A poem I wrote once. Not really sure if it even counts as a type of poem. Maybe a free verse? 

Another one.

I had lost track.

So many,

Shattered fragments,

And still counting.

Glass everywhere,

Remnants of broken dreams and aspirations,

Fantasies, and desires.

So many,

Shattered fragments,

And still counting.

They cut me.

I cannot escape.

I cannot piece them back together.

I can only sit and watch,

As the rest fall,

One by one.

They are sharp.

Wounds from the broken edges sting.

I watch as my blood spills over the glass,

Like a cascade.

So many,

Shattered fragments,

And still counting.

Fractured garnets.

Of the deepest shades.