I’ve got a heart of glass
And a mind made of stone
A will strong in appearance
But weak when put to work
The glass was before shattered
The stone could hardly move
Mending the glass was difficult
Stone’s status has improved
My broken glass still has its scars
It still can break if it’s held hard
It scars do show, they spoil each rinse
They spoil each cleansing for drops are despised
Some new interventions that might be so welcomed
Are asked to re fix the scars that where rendered
Because if they don’t as soon as they press
The glass will pop and then they’ll feel depressed
The shattered glass pieces in their hands will hurt them
And my little glass heart will be broken again
Then my mind made of stone will become of metal
And my weakened force will be buried within…
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