The Glass Man stood in the downpour of rain,
feeling it slide down the smooth surface of his body.
And while the skies stormed furiously above,
his iron heart raged passionately with love.
The Iron Woman lay in the comfort of her bed,
feeling the softness cushion her hardened shell.
And while her body's mold could never shatter,
her glass heart hid fragilely from pain.
The Glass Man watched through the window,
at the Iron Woman dormant and apathetic.
Unable to see anything but metallic beauty,
his iron heart raged passionately with love.
The Iron Woman turned her eyes to the window,
at the Glass Man still and soulful.
Unable to see anything but transparent purity,
her glass heart hid fragilely from pain.
The Glass Man knocked on the window gently.
The Iron Woman opened the window slowly.
The Glass Man reached to trace her metal lips.
The Iron Woman plunged a fist into his chest.
The Glass Man shattered like a bright starburst,
his iron heart laying in the rain to rust.
The Iron Woman shut her window quickly,
and whispered, "You're love is only pain to me."
YOU ARE READING
Living in Yesterday
PoetryYoung Sang Lee's second poetry collection, featuring twenty poems that have been sitting in his desk drawer for the past couple decades. Poems for when you're feeling nostalgic and want to go back to yesterday.
