Pieces

Glass.
People are like glass,
they appear unbreakable, but in the face of a hammer they are soft as a feather.
Easily broken down to bits and pieces with a hard swing,
they are broken;
nullified from their strength in one
and divided by their weakness in numbers.
The only substantial use of broken glass is to murder.
Isn't that how we humans are?
After we've been broken,
after we've been shattered,
there is no more use to us but to end another's misery.
But there is something that baffles me:
How do we manage to piece ourselves back together, after we've been shattered?