My Heart is so Fragile

Like a faberge egg. Like a Christmas bulb. Like blown glass.

Why?

Toughen up, they say. Get a grip. Drive on.

You think so? Is that the way?

Or should I turn it into a deep compassion? Press into God and allow him to fill every nook and cranny with his Holy Gorilla Glue?

A hardened heart. I longed for it so I could be free.

But, is it freedom?

I think I’ll stick with Fra-Gee-Lay and run after that heavenly reward.

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