Our world shatters and crumbles into pieces. They are so tiny, so are hard to collect and put back together. Do to fix it? Can we? Is it worth it to go back? We can only wonder as the pieces turn to dust and are carried away by the wind.
(I haven’t written a fifty in a long time and figured, I could just give it a go. There was no planning into this so sorry if it doesn’t really seem like much. Although most Fifty usually doesn’t.)