Glass people,
crystal clear
running about
they cannot hear.
Painted smiles,
icicle eyes
that have never known
the need to cry.
They have no love.
What's that mean?
Plastic hearts
made in China
covering their eyes,
they feel no pain.
Their blood runs cold
through satin veins.
We see right through you.
We know your kind.
Stop that screaming
don't waste your breath.
Can't you see
they are deaf?
They're just glass people,
crystal clear
with artificial hearts
and counterfeit feelings.
The glass people
have no depth.
Pick them up,
shake them,
try to break them.
You'll find they've been
broken all along.