Glimmers of Neglect

On my way home, I caught a glimmering glance,

a shard of old glass, like fate’s twisted chance.

It lay in the gutter, discarded, yet bright,

a prism of colors, reflecting the light.

In the mess of the world, a moment defined,

a beauty forgotten, so fragile, unlined.

It sparkled like laughter in moments of pain,

a reminder that joy can rise after rain.

So I bent down to cradle this shard in my palm,

a treasure reclaimed, amidst chaos, a balm.

With each breath I took, I could see, I could feel,

that life holds its magic, its beauty surreal.