We cut our glass statues

with careful precision

or callous

disregard

We admire

permanence

until it shatters

it takes precision

to break precision

a spying spider

a contemptuous foe

a sharp hammer

a steel spike

through the heart

of security

We thought we knew

they knew us better

cut to pieces

and bleeding on the ground

between shards

of empty space

our statues

were false

our metaphysical moment

broke us

destroyers

look for our fault lines

but we are so much stronger

than our creations

the best art, is the artist

there will never be another

with the same cracks and suffering

beauty can be broken

a torn flower is sad

a hammer

is without feeling

plain

in its ugliness.