Gena is a fragile spiderweb
Glorious in the morning sun
but shining with her tears
Gena is a kaleidoscope
red, gold, blue
Changing her patterns
always sometime new,
Gena is a glass beaded puzzle,
The filamentous kind which gentle fingers could solve,
If only she would let them,

She shouts her strength and wisdom,
Covering her brittle heart with sheer curtains,
But she will choose the right path when she screams for stability,
And her painted lattice masks go up in final flames.