The
Other Side of the Glass
Every
morning I wake up on the other side of the glass.
A
stranger to the world of life and light.
Perhaps
today will be that day, I think to myself,
But
I am always met with disappointment and eternal night.
This
world is not for me they say; always one pane out of reach.
The
remains of a day never to be made, one that will always defy me.
Still
my fascination, too intoxicating to deny.
A
view from a tree,
A
bark to pierce the sky.
The
sound of laughter defiles that void,
Never
to be more than a whisper and cry.
I
would curse my own dreams if I ever had slept,
The
visions of things kept achingly from reach ,
The
warmth,
The love,
All that remains is where I had wept.
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