Real Frame

Glancing out the dusty window,

I see the mist slowly fall,

I look into the mirror hanging on my wall,

I inspect myself thoroughly finding things to blame,

I pick and prod and tear apart my body’s external frame,

Hoping to find and answer,

I walk outside my door,

Looking up at the sky I see what I have been looking for,

The moon light’s beauty calms my mind,

As if it solves problems of any kind,

And now I think and feel awake,

And I realize that I’m glad my frame is real not fake.


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