The house I live in is made of glass,
That can shatter so easily,
The glass is tinted, the colors change,
To match the mood in me.
Red when I am angry, blue when I am sad,
Green when I envy, and yellow when I am glad.
I can see out but no one can see in,
As it should be,
Within are hiding places to run to when,
Solitude is what I need.
One stone against a wall and the glass will shatter instantly,
The glass house I'm speaking of,
Is the part of me you see.

-- Belinda Smith (The glass house)