my people are full of light

when at last it starts to break
you my people the cracks
make it easy to find you
my people my broken things
i think you are not my people
because you are broken i think
you are broken because you are
my people because you saw
what a life could be because
people are always failing
you my people the breaking
makes it easy to find you
fading finally as the night
takes you in its smooth arms
leaving only the colors
in your widening pattern of cracks.