Have beauty on the outside
Is like being a glass rose
Just a form with no essence
No sweet smelling breaths
Or jagged thrones to draw bleed
Nor color to draw eye in for closer looks
One false move
And you start your decent to the floor
Tail spinning in the air
With all the pretty words
Used to describe you exterior
With nothing to hold you firm
No back bone or inner thoughts
To keep you balanced and level
All your empty achievements
That have been based on your facade
When you hit the floor
The cracks will spider though your face
Split down your stem, break into pieces
And on the floor all that remains
Is your shattered skin
No more prettier now than the thorns
That you never had
You reflect light into color
That you never had
And with your sterile smell
To cracked to be put back together
To jaded to ever be touched
You lay broken
 
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