Sunday, July 4, 2010

Through the Glass

I'm afraid of the faces
that smile at me through the glass,
I can't trust them.
Would you?
The eyes don't blink,
but follow my every move,
I stare back at them blankly,
nervously.
My touch leaves no prints;
So why must they keep me here?
Do they just get pleasure from watching me struggle?
Another will soon share my fate,
I shall be free when they start watching him.

By: Brandy Ruiz

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