Whose that girl with the fake smile and sadly glazed eyes.
Who is she underneath her mask and her ever clever disquise.
Shes too afraid to let it all out. Shes too afraid to cry.
She remains distant and silent. Shes obviously very shy.
She just sits by her phone and waits for somoene to call,
But as time passes slowly ticking by it doesn't ring at all.
She trys hard to hold back her sentamental tears in a crowded city subway.
Theres so much she needs to let out. Theres so much she wants to open up and say.
Shes fragile. Her heart is ripped open, bleeding, and starting to ache.
Shes fragile. I think shes on her way...I think shes about to break.
The little boy next door just sits on his front porch all day.
With his head burried in his hands he trys hard to look away,
From a drunk ass dad beats him down and then up every night,
And a strung out pair of parents that do nothing but constantly fight.
His birth parents passed over last year in a cruel and devistating car crash.
His mom was shit faced drunk and his dad had smoked just a little too much hash.
So he just sits there on the front porch. He doesn't know what to say.
He hates his retched life. He hates himself. He curses the light of day.
Well hes fragile. I don't really know how much more this boy can take.
Hes fragile. I think his hearts about to shatter. I think hes about to break.
A teenage girl sits on a city park bench trying hard not to cry.
Her heart is broken and she wishes she could just fall over and die.
She gave her innocents and her heart to a boy that promised her the moon.
She thought it would last forever. She thought it would never end this soon.
Now shes sixth months pregnant with his son and hes nowhere to be found.
Her heart and soul are crying out, there screaming. "Why couldn't he stick around!'
Her parents disowned her and the boys just pass her by. Shes alone.
Her friends call her a slut and theirs nothing but trouble at home.
Shes fragile. Its not something she can hide, its nothing something she can fake.
Shes fragile. I think shes juts about ready...I think shes just about ready to break.
An old man sits in a rocking chair with his dog faithfully sitting by his side.
Theres noene around, noene to talk to about how he feels deep down inside.
His wife died last year of lung cancer and he still thinks of her often. He misses her so.
His memory is fading. Who is this? Whose left of his family. He can't tell nor does he know.
So he talks to himself, he talks to his dog, he talks to the air, and he cries himself to sleep at night.
He gets on his knees, looks up at heaven, and then prays that the end will come and erase the daylight.
Hes broken, tattered, and torn. Hes misereably lost in his old age. Hes now alone.
Hes fragile. Age has caused his whole world to quiver, shift, and shake.
Hes fragile. I think soon he will whither, his strength will fade, he will break.
Well my dear loving mother died when I was young. When I was only four months old.
The night my father killed my innocent mother to the devil his soul was tragically sold.
Those who took me in and adopted me betrayed me and institutanalized me.
They never understood my pain for their eyes were blind and they could not see.
Once upon a time I was ready to be wed. I was ready to give her my life.
Then just before our son could be born into this world our love sadly became strife.
Now I miss my son Tristan. I miss him so that I cry myself to sleep most every night.
I curse myself for opening up and for being so careless. I curse the retched day light!
Well I'm fragile. I don't know how much more I can push. I don't know how much more I can take.
Well I'm fragile. Please hold me up, sew me together, and please don't let me break.
© Brett Harper
