Made Of Glass Poem by Sanjukta Nag

Sometimes I think I am lucky
That my heart was not made of glass.
‘Cause when you had thrown the stone of “no” to it,
Then it would have broken into two hundred pieces
Spreading cacophony all around my existence.
And the whole neighbourhood’s ears would have witnessed
The nakedness of my shattered privacy.

But sometimes I think I am unlucky
That my heart was not made of glass.
‘Cause it if were, then I could have shown you,
The four rooms of this glass house is filled
With the presence of your miscellaneous moving figures.
And each of those sixteen glass walls
Only reflects your vivid images.