A broken glass is like a broken heart, it can not be fixed. cuts, stretches and bruises upon it. bleeding out the blood it should be pumping, wine pours out of the glass as go for the same the blood pours out of the heart, but the blood is really our love. dieing slowly as the blood falls on the floor, the glass can not be fix the blood can not go back in the heart, it starts to get dark and we are torn apart. glue can not fix the glass, sketches can not stitch the heart, so where is me new beginning of a new start.