I was once a beautiful prism
Reflecting the outer light, projecting it out into the darkest crevices
Pulling strangers from far and wide out to ponder
What was i?

As each individual would crowd closer, coming into contact with my lifespan
Each would find a different face, a different plane to stare into
Collecting their own individual, different side of myself
And keeping it for their own
Yet no one realized if they only stepped back
Only moved away a fraction of a piece
Then they would be able to see all of the prism for all that it was worth
But all that was fascinating to them
Was the small sliver of light from their piece of the pie
And all that mattered
Was the small fraction of me that they could see

But people in life tend to forget the true purpose of a prism:
Only to reflect what was once given to them
So as the surroundings begin to change
The prism adapts, changing its forms
This great, gorgeous image that they once revered to be the center of their attentions
Would become twisted, shattered, like a broken mirror
And the beholder was unable to understand how to fix their beloved reflection
For they could not change themselves in order to change me
For they did not know that it was themselves that was the problem
They only blamed their once beautiful prism
So she sat and waited to be fixed,
Yet no one came around to fix me.

Over time, the once pristine prism became worn down
Cracks spread across the surface, the shine began to fade
Once the strangers saw what was happening
They left the prism, abandoning it
For it had lost its purpose to them, there was no good left that they could find
They had no patience to fix me, that was not their job
All they had wanted was the good that i bestowed, i was not needed to display all the horrors and tragedies that were truly there in their lives

So there i sat, kicked to the curb by the ones i thought would always be there
Who claimed they would always love their beloved prism
And view its reflection til’ death did them part
So i’d wind myself with tape, glue the shards back together
And wait for the next stranger to come passing by
For them to stop, and stare
And wonder:

What was i?