The tiny cracks too small for the eye to see,
too insignificant for anyone to care.
When the instrument arrives,
only a few will take notice of the fault line.
No one believes for long it will happen,
and when it opens, they start to blame.
The tiny fragile ones seem to notice,
they hear the pebbles falling.
Moments like these are strange.
They outweigh the realness of it,
And people stop listening.
We are not cracked like glass along a beach,
And too many believe they are.