Of The Glass

On the other side of the glass
Where there is no one else to ask
What is what or who is who
This is not the thing to do
Where what has been shall come to pass
That is first the worst is last
No one is given a free pass

On the other side of the glass
Mirrors break into fragments of light
Like a monstrous chalkboard screaming night
Where huge crowds gather blank en masse
Such words were spoken and actions act
Surrealism lived like artifact

On the other side of the glass
Locked behind a hidden door unseen
Someone writes your name upon a screen
Where what has been shall come to pass
Where there is no one else to ask
On the other side of the glass




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-05-29 at 19:19

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