Dust settles on an old bottle made of glass
Slightest pressure, slightest touch
Leaves an imprint of the hand
Unclear, foggy glass
That send in a world of dreams
Forming into the layers of the glass
Dust settles in and everyone turns to plastic
Forgetting the glass bottle of dreams
With the little click of a nail
It echoed a small ring in the air
It whispered when filled and the rim touched
When dropped to the ground,
Fragile, it would break to many pieces
As a shattered heart when someone leaves
Broken shards that cut the tip of your fingers
When cold, a fine layer of icy water
Settled on it so it slipped in your hands
It held a secret no one really saw
Antique, ancient looking glass bottle
That retained infusion's flavors
We forgot about the glass bottles
That send my thoughts spinning