She is a tin can

Torn open like a lid
she's a tin can of human kindness
kicked
beneath the stairs,
with the last apparition, melting as if brass,
a cigarette,
is all that's left

history is a puzzle,
like a sloth it advances, Like
a pain that grows worse

the earth remains jagged and broken
for those who are shattered within

She knows the dark
A little girl, with hands outstretched to the stars
try as she may, with all her might
she cannot reach that far