The things nobody wants

Nobody wants the broken glass or the sad memories from their pain-filled past.
Nobody wants the things to come if it's the pain of death's slow drum.
Nobody buys the broken things; they'd rather have a box that sings.
Nobody hears the broken heart's cry because nobody wants a sobbing mess.

No one buys the broken things.
No one wants the broken glass.
No one uses the broken things.
No one wants the broken mess.