Steel is tempered in burning heat,
Made hard and strong through fire.
But flesh will burn and crack and die
When put upon the pyre.

Steel is ground and whet and honed,
Sharpened on a jagged stone.
But if you touch the grinding wheel,
Your skin is stripped down to the bone.

Steel is hammered hard and long
To give it form and shape.
But any part of me, when crushed,
Will only bruise and break.

This crucible of fire and pain
Is supposed to make us strong.
But you and I aren’t made of steel,
And we can’t last for long.