Missing Pieces

I was stronger at some point, now I’m just shattered glass and I can’t find the pieces. You can trace back to a time when most if not everything worked almost perfectly for you…A time when your smile would lighten up a dark alley. Such bliss and total satisfaction came with every dawn in just being yourself. Without a care in the world, all caution was thrown to the wind, and apparently there was always a soft landing to every shaking. It would never hurt too much, never miss so much, and never felt empty inside. The morning breeze was always sweetly scented and quite a motivation to see the day from a lovely perspective. Laughter filled every minute with life, and a tear would only be of joy. … Sarcasm then happened…The very source of your strength becomes the weak point and the downfall unfolds. The very people that would have brought you joy, those that you worked hard for them to be proud of you, turned their heads and looked away from your achievements. Every tunnel you go through has that dull light at the end of it… … Through and through it’s a struggle to find who you were at a particular point in time. Where did the rain start beating and how come no shelter was available? Is there room to salvage the damaged?