"you're not made of glass," he said,
no. glass cannot die. I'm dead.

"you gotta be more joyful," he quipped,
try it when you've been slipper-whipped.

does no-one understand?
is there no-one here?
in this bitter land
does no-one lend an ear?

when you've been crushed and daunted
abused, smeared and taunted
your soul remains haunted
believe me

after pain, sling 'n sting
you forget how to sing
a broken bowstring
cannot stand king

believe me.

i'm broken.