you, my friend, are a sheet of glass
held tightly by your parents' grasps
a surface with flawless polished perfection
that will attempt any kind of deflection
to things that don't fit in the square
of your firm structure that stays there

so rigid and stiff in what you do
i wish i could get through to you
but you are still a sheet of glass
so all my light will only pass
and at the slightest breaks or bends
your glass will shatter beyond amends