Hall of Mirrors

Standard

A collection,

Of skewed perceptions,

“I am possible!”

They beckon,

From all directions.

A glass menagerie,

Not in Versailles,

A view of a gallery,

From compound eyes.

Arms extended,

Towards,

The intended goal.

Fading handprints,

Where we thought we should go.

Knees bended,

We descended,

To the other end.

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