Glue

I look around and realize
How little I know of the friends that Iíve spent hours and days with
The trials in their minds and souls
The fragility with which their thoughts are shaped.
Clumsy, I stomp through this web
Unknowingly cutting ties and lines and livesÖ
Stumbling through, tracking flour through the snow.
Now with gloved hands I pick up pieces
But the glue makes my fingers stick together
So I look around and realize
Iím slowly losing what I was asking for.

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