My skin is transparent
My heart made of glass
My lungs are construction Paper
Not built to last
My bones are just straw
My veins merely string
My spine is a willow branch
That can't hold up a thing
My brain is a flower
My nerves are pure ice
My soul is a memory
Caught in a vice
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 1:43 PM UTC
My skin is transparent
My heart made of glass
My lungs are construction Paper
Not built to last
My bones are just straw
My veins merely string
My spine is a willow branch
That can't hold up a thing
My brain is a flower
My nerves are pure ice
My soul is a memory
Caught in a vice
Request permission to use this poem