In need of super glue

Looking down at my feet I see the shattered remains

of friendships and what should have been.

And a teardrop escapes my eye.

Then once again I sigh as I bend over to pick them up.

Such is the task the Gods give me.

What kind of a sick inidividual could rally against peace?

As the full weight of it crashes against mind.

splintering an already fragile easiness.

Looking up I see only grayness on the Path ahead ahead and wonder.

Dear Gods what would you have me do now?