I’ve played with glass marbles, they’re black as black gets...
Cracked down their middles....and right through their backs...
Chained to long nights backed with painful cold-sweats...
I’ll bet that these pains are the best I’ve met yet...

Although I do know, though I don’t......will I grow?...
The best of me.....that person I’ve never known...
And while cracks remain, time has maintained what’s stained...
Strained cracks in black glass back and reaps what’s been sown....