Framed

Mr. Crawt broke his glasses time and time then

         Sometimes he fixed them

         But they always end broken again

         So he buys another pair, slightly distinct from the last

         Over and over he goes through this

         None of these will stay in tact

         He needs them and they need him

But he can’t help either of them

He gazes to the drawer of failed attempts

As it squeaks fiercely from his gentle hand in disguise

He realizes his new pair differs so much from the first

He pulls them out trembling and places them on

They’re even too small

He places them where he will always see them

But a thought occurs

Maybe I should fix that drawer

The glasses drop waiting to be broken again

As he kicks them to his side,

They hit the wall with one sound smack

He looks down to see they aren’t broken this time

He walks to his tools in peace