He is like glass, fragile when whole
But when you break him and try to console
You get cut because he has turned so violent
Crashing to the ground he screams but scattered there he’s silent
Jagged edges waiting for some skin to break
After being broken he’s never been more awake
The little boy made of glass
Lacking in class
And never showing tact
Is now spread out over the floor, completely cracked
He is jaded
And when broken he makes you feel degraded
You can try to put him back together
But he’ll dismiss you, blow you away like a feather
And you’ll never see your reflection in him again
All you see now is his eyes staring back with disdain
You try to stay humane
And desperately explain
But to him your words are only pointless excuses
He hears only what he chooses
The little boy made of glass is condemned to a life of solitude
Jaded and crude