I let it slip from my hands
It's skinniness cut through my fingers
A clean sheet, paper bones.
But there's still the heaviness
Of what it was. Though now
There are no more empty seats,
That's only because they've been
Ripped out. Pages that never were.
But if you look closely enough
You can still make out the tears
Where something once was.
Shiny glass can't hide it's transparency.
Seems unscratched, tough, but
Still it has fears,
As complacency lays undeterred.
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