Form a
Home
within our
Heads
Impossible to
Tell if we are
Dead
While looking past
Sadness
In a photograph
There are no
Tears left
For joy
A lens
Will not hide
The panic bouncing
From the walls
Eyes
Piercing
Through the
Screams
A Snapshot.
Distorted souls
Run
From
The house of mirrors.
There is no escape.
How do we run
from
fantasy?
When lost dreams
Chance on
Reality
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