Hope is a fragile thing
That should be well-kept,
But the best I can do
Is a box through which you can see.

In my glass box,
Lives all my hope;
And with that hope,
Live all my dreams;
And with those dreams,
Live all my fears;
And with those fears,
My inhibitions.

So take a peek
At the things that define me,
And wonder at the preposterous way
In which I was made.

And when you are through
Examining my soul,
I ask only this of you:

Hold out your glass box
And allow me
To look through you too.