From the pages… Prints on the glass

Here’s a poem from the pages of Shattered Reflections: A Poetic Collection.

As you walk into a public place with a glass door,
You’ll notice prints on the glass of all shapes and sizes,
Most people think that they’re smudges and nothing more,
But if you only knew, each one tells a story full of surprises.
Starting from the top, you see a giant print of a full hand,
With several marks around the palm that look like scars,
This belongs to a young man that reaches seven feet at a stand,
Who dreams someday to compete with his favorite basketball stars.
But his mother became ill his junior year at school,
And he had to drop out to be by her side,
Working at a lumber mill, feeling like a fool,
But around his mother, this pain and depression he tries to hide.
But soon all the responsibilities he tosses around,
Get to be too much for him to cope,
So soon after his mother gets put into the ground,
He takes his own life with a short drop from a tied rope.
You quickly look further down the glass close to the middle,
You notice two hand prints set side by side,
These are from a couple, who worry about very little,
For their love is so deep, to each other, they have nothing to hide.
They’re newlyweds with dreams of being together forever,
With a family full of wonderful and beautiful children,
But as they soon learn, having a child proves to be an impossible endeavor,
For her ovaries had to be removed because of the cancer that filled in.
But together, all obstacles overcome and her health regained,
Though the hopes of having children are all but done,
Even with the problem, one option still remained,
Adoption of several children proves that love, in the end, has won.
With a last long look, you continue down with a smile,
You notice a child’s hand print just under the door handle,
But the smile fades after you gaze at it for a while,
For this boy could be compared to the fragile light of a candle.
So delicate, the slightest change could put it out,
But left alone, it still slowly melts away,
The problem was this boy’s parents would often fight and shout,
Until finally, his mother just packed and left one day.
Alone with his father is what caused most of his fear,
For he would always abuse the boy when he could,
But now, the abuse continued daily for the next year,
The boy was afraid to call for help, but every day he knew he should.
His father kept feeding him lies of what would happen to him,
If he told anyone what was being done to him every day,
His father said that he would be laughed at and nobody would believe him,
He was so afraid of his father; he never had anything to say.
But soon the torture turned fear to rage,
And a monster was building up inside the boy,
One day he snapped and let the monster out of its cage,
And as he stabbed his father to death came a feeling of joy.
Ripping your eyes away from that print on the door,
And wiping the tears away from your face,
Should you dare to glance around a bit more?
You finally decide to check out just one more place.
Near the bottom of the glass, a print catches your eye,
A small hand print that belongs to a little girl,
As you stare at it, you begin to cry,
While the images of her story start to unfurl.
Such a sweet little girl without a single worry or care,
As she laughs and sings while skipping along,
But under her hat you notice she has no hair,
And you realize that something is wrong.
For this sweet little girl just came from the doctor,
And the radiation side effects haven’t yet taken their toll,
Soon her mother picks her up and begins to rock her,
Tears build in her mother’s eyes as she cradles that little soul.
As the images of her story continue to pass,
Her mother’s eyes fill with sorrow and doubt,
You see her lying in bed, drinking from a glass,
as her mother reads her a story, and turns the lights out.
Next you find her awake in, what you now realize is a hospital bed,
As her mother and the doctor come to her bed side,
Her mother leans down and kisses her on the forehead,
Tears running down her cheeks to which she tries to hide.
But what the doctor tells them erases all fear,
And the little girl starts jumping on the bed,
For the cancer is gone and she’s in the clear,
Tears of joy fill her mother’s eyes as she holds her daughters head.
So now you have an idea of what these prints mean,
For most people, they’re just marks on a dirty window as they pass,
But for those who stop and focus on what is really being seen,
They can see the stories behind the prints on the glass.

If you enjoyed this poem, and would like to read more, get your copy of Shattered Reflections: A Poetic Collection.
Available now as an eBook and Paperback at Amazon and anywhere books are sold.
Click here to get your copy from Amazon

Thanks and many blessings,



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