Borderline

Borderline; 

They think it fine

To crush the glass,

But I dissent,

I feel the pain of the glass

For I am something made of it.

Ask for the opinion of stained glass,

It all depends on who you ask,

Ranges from which we value more;

Transparency;

Or just plain beauty. 

Some believe

It still can be.

Others see

You can never quite have both.

Marginal, 

I make the cut,

The cut of glass 

That cut my hands.

I'm sympathetic

For I am something made of it.