Like worms in dirt we burrow
Our faces and expressions
We force them to dwell there.
We make that our obsession.

We know how fragile they are,
Yet we make them fight their way out.
Then we wonder why they're broken
Like eggs when they surface about.

Then yet again we do the same,
And plead them to survive unhurt,
Even though we know they are
Buried inside our bodies' dirt.