She lived her life in a world of stained glass.
The sun came up orange
And went down pale, pale blue:
The shade of new formed clouds.

The flowers bloomed in every hue of purple,
From lilac to darkest lavender,
And the snow was green as clovers.
Then one day, it began to rain.
The clouds formed in swarms of
Crimson and gold.
The rain came in rainbow drops,
Shattering this single-color perspective
That she adored.
The drops fell, dripping from
Boorish brown to yowling yellow
Until the glass shattered
Into a smattering of
Scattered colors,
Tossed about as random as rolled dice.
Her world lay from then on
Broken, deathly sharp, and perplexing,
Upon the floor.