Wednesday, February 1, 2012


The Looking Glass
Home is home.
The warmth of fire lights the room.
The window shatters light inside.
I find my place. It's home. Mine
and I stand. Here.
My violins play on the frozen lake.
It's music. It's home. Mine
and I stand. Here
I watch from inside. It's cold.
I stand alone. I stand. My place. Mine
and I stand here.
And here I was, I am and I stand.
Bound by these windows
that shatter my soul.
Home is home.

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