untitled
By samhennig
Mon, 14 Oct 2019
- 109 reads
1 likes
Outside is constant evening,
air thick with rain
that hovers; never falls.
He reviews himself
and finds himself
wanting. Wanting
to hide. To find
another him to be.
To be what he needs
so that they can say,
this is what it should be.
What is right.
What is right?
Right before our eyes
but out of reach.
He can see through
this window but his
reflection blinds.
A ghost of all that
might have been.
Seen but unacknowledged.
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