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.