Glass

Like a Waterford goblet There are cuts all over me Though not nearly as exquisite I am etched with imperfection Fill that chalice with the beverage of your choice And it will pour out of all the holes I lose everything, down to the last teardrop See me balanced there Arms like twigs, stretched out Against neglected framework So thin, just trying to hold on Squaring myself for the next assault Brittle glass trying not to appear weak Every stone hurled Has marred the original beauty of the pattern Leaving jagged holes The dings and sorrows Escorted by slings and arrows Forming lacy crystalline webs which creep across my soul The glass is barely held together And will fall to pieces with the slightest touch Walls protect fragile glass from what lies without them Don’t touch me because I’m not unbreakable