Glass so delicate easily breaks

Throwing, dropping–it matters not

A million shards will be its fate

Not unlike the tender heart

.

When handled coarsely it slowly bleeds

Crimson tears that may never heal

A gentle touch is what it needs

Embraced by passionate lovers feel

.

Absent the heart will surely shred

Perhaps forever left in ruin

All hope for love is left for dead

What remains of the heart are strewn

.

That which is fragile must be treated with care or damage permanent may be done

For the passion of lovers is something they share on their journey to meld into one

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~