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 ~~