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Who is hiding in the ripples of your hall of mirrors? |
Looking Glass A fear of being transparent, with eyes misted, doubled and glazed Mirrors contorted and twisted, reflecting the doubts that I've raised Housed in this hall of glass doorways, where so precious few are allowed With sand super heated and treated, and truths in the grains disavowed Truths that hide deep in the warping … or the shallows for impromptu eyes Eyes the glass wasn't prepared for, perception, a scary surprise Eyes that can see through the backing, silver armour, set in place so long Eyes that can read through distortions, perceive where the weave has burnt wrong Where contours sheath hidden treasures, treasures thought unfit and wrong Untouched by illusions and measures, in ripples well crafted... thought strong Like reflections, it's all an illusion, glassine strength, strong, so hardened, so framed Tin foil backed plate for protection, so fragile, alone... and unclaimed By sea grey blue eyes, we are tested, some times it is harder to see The subjects who should be invested, reflected and trusted to be An integral part of the image, to see through illusions long raised, Allayed fears of being transparent, with age, with contentment found inside the glaze |