Sharp as broken mirrors

For as it falls from the sky
We capture it´s glint
we call it a spark
yet it´s a knife made of flint

It falls from the sky as water but before it settles
It touches down and becomes like metal
Like tiny mirrors people´s hopes
Holes will be made

The tragic juggler floats high before his show
Down come those pointed swords with every word you invest
down they come to rest in our shoulders and chests
To make us bleed and stifle us

The reflection you see in the one you adore
is broken in the mirror you upturned to ignore
A shard of glass is grasped and used to remember
The scar on your hand won´t let you forget anymore