Striking enough to break the glass if only it could sing

A stop sign for the drivers and every walking thing

Blushing behind those warm cheeks – the sign of long embarrassment

Or poured into a soirée glass: the merry drinker quite content

The painful aftermath of the knife or scissors wrath

And oh! The bloody nose that shall stain the decent shirt

And in love a broken organ and when mixed with tears is falling

It is the sign of everlasting hurt