A beauty within, that sparkles with ease,
If touched the right way, with humour or tease,
In a garden of feelings, it stands so alone,
And the past grows over it, like Ivy on stone,

It weeps and it begs, to be drawn to the light,
But can sometimes be scared, of the brightness in sight,
Yet with gentle words, it grows once more,
And yearns for the comfort, and the dream to explore,

Romancing the night, and waltzing by day,
It eagerly waits, for the light where it plays,
Reflecting the light, in a teardrop of love,
Embracing the moments, like snow from above,

So fragile and delicate, is its structure complete,
The slightest nudge, and it shatters beneath,
Repairing this glass, is a pain staking task,
It may take forever, but its pain it will last,

But once repaired, it looses it sparkle,
The facets of damage, are harder to tackle,
These hearts of glass, are indeed unique,
As they die back in gardens, in sorrow and grief....