Glass man

Cut from dull crystal, rigid he walks,
Always so frigid, rarely he talks,
Afraid to throw stones, his fingertips cracked,
So cold, so bare, another is what he lacked.
Tough to be seen, his skin so clear,
His longing, his obsession, so tall, so sheer.
Needing your gaze, deficit of attention,
Blind to his flaw, lacking in comprehension.
“How come you send ‘him’ your loving stare?”
The glass man puzzled, he stands right there!
Shatters and splits, lay on his clear-cut chest,
You refused to see him, how can he rest?