Rock Paper Scissors Poem by Patti Masterman

Rock, paper, scissors; my heart it is fragile
My baby lives now in this world; am I agile

Enough to survive; if the papers on top
Of the scissors, or then; if the stone's offered up

To crush the shears metal, can I stay alive?
It's scary how delicate things are alive;

Rock; my heart sinks like the stone in the well;
If she dash her foot, then just take me to hell-

Paper; a cut to the heart is such pain;
Would I want to bring her to life here again-

Scissors; never cut her soul loose from mine
What words on mere paper could ever define?