Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Self Portrait

A phantom on the window,

Though he stares back, his glances

Are irreverent.

A colorful shadow, the extent

Of his beauty is locked out of

True happenings.


He is soulless, a mockery of

Pain, bliss, misery, he lives

A life apart. Isolated. And yet

Finds solace still in his

Silent unsightly dance.


As a gentle breeze lofts to his

Side, nothing. When I move,

He ceases to exist. Never upon

His ears, will the sweet nothings

Fall, nor will he pang in their

Vacancy.


Yet, he appears, inquisitive, at

Each passing, fleeting...

As I gaze out the window, I

Cannot help but feel as

Transparent as he.