We can still see it, but we can no longer touch it.
Once the glass shatters, that memory is forgotten and ceases to exist.
It all seems so unreal to look back on memories.
To think that once we die and everyone who knows us dies,
every piece of glass will be broken into shards that no one can see.
We really then cease to exist.
What can we know about those who lived before us?
Can we name their quirks and passions?
The things that drove them and the things that broke them?
The first time they loved and the first time they cried?
They are forgotten faces, replaced with new generations.
Soon too will we be forgotten.