Glass- I compare my feelings to glass. broken easily, hard to see until u step on it. See through, but only on one end, mine. mirror image on your end. like the one in the precent where they can see you but you cant see them. Pen- Represents the broom that i sweep up my broken glass with. It makes everything feel better. Paper is my garbage. Where I through all those feelings and get rid of my hurt and pain. She told me to killem with kindness but I learned to killem with silence. pick up paper and a pen and let loose all those feeling I keep pinned in. Rathen answer their ignorance With throwing up my hands. cause with that im ready to fight. I'll tell u If it werent for writing poems I'd be up north writing kytes. for those of u who dont know up north means in prison and a kyte is a letter u write, or someone writes u when you locked up.