You live on the globe that sits on the table
Intricate in design
on some shrine
You are not stable
Any tap of the glass
Any soft subtle sound
Your whole world erupts
And a blizzard comes ‘round
You wail and you cry,
throwing hands in dismay
And are stuck in the storm,
You never built a place to stay
You say it’s unfair
Please, how cliché
They say you were made that way

Okay

On the shelf beneath yours
Stands a canal house of glass
Purchased from the same store
But knows that storms always pass
The house stands exposed
To things far worse than snow
And despite scratches and scars
She never lets the wounds show
And whenever they rush
To stop the water when you crack
The house will always be standing
After all
They expect her to hold it all back