Like Glass

how do we carry on when our lives are knocked to the floor, shattered like glass, consequently scattered and the pieces never to be assembled again.
scraping and trying to discern what pieces fit back together, while we find that we're missing too many pieces to make this life look the way it did before someone took it and knocked it off the shelf.
we're all made of the thinnest glass possible, we just guard the glass differently.
placed on higher shelves, encased in glass boxes or stowed away where no one will find it.

what do we do when we pick up that shattered glass, but throw it away.
if we cherished what is now the shattered remains, we might hold off for a bit,
but in the end we know it's useless to keep the pile we've brushed together.
which of us melts that glass and molds the pieces back together?

how do we carry on