Third poem of the series and actually the first one I wrote.
For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was.James 1:23-24 KJV
There is a man of glass, He is trapped in fragility, And walking among us. Yet he’s easy to pass, And avoids with agility, Sometimes there is a fuss. Other times they want brass. He is a liability, His rage festers like puss. He gets lost in the mass, By his vulnerability. He leaves shards on the bus. He’s silent when he breaks. His heart has been shattered and aches. His tears could build great lakes. All he does is act fake. Every day in the looking glass, There is a man of glass.