Strings break, and certain things are disconnected.
Strings no one even saw or thought were there:
The slight connections that define existence,
And make our fragile spirits more than air
The pinnacles we reach; or then, the valleys –
The heights we scale before our time to fall –
The strings that kept us safe go unregarded:
And trust, most precious string, breaks last of all
To share is human:
Can trust ever be repaired ?
Not always, no.