Not something that's actually happened...really.

He held her easily in the palm of his hand--
A little statuette of sculpted glass
Poised to step away at his request.
The living doll, built so fragile
As to be at risk from the slightest blow.
He placed her carefully on a pedestal
And worshipped her there,
Respecting her delicate beauty
And caring for her, that she would not break.
But one day as he held her in his palm
He trembled--ever so slightly--
And the doll fell from his hand.
His attempts to swiftly catch her
Were in vain, and she soon hit the floor,
Into many small, bright, sharp shards
That could not be recovered.
He tried so hard to put her back together,
But success was elusive;
Some pieces were missing,
And the little glass statuette was never quite the same.