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.