Reflections that Lie | Ayan Sharma (9)

I stare through glass that looks like air,

So clear I could almost trust it.

The world beyond looks rough, dangerous,

But maybe it’s just painted that way.

The light bends softly, whispers shout,

A thousand colors that all appear grey.

I attempt to touch what isn’t there,

and feel the edges begin to bend.

Maybe truth wears a mask of dreams,

And every thought’s a shifting scene.

I’m left to wonder what's beneath -

The world I see, or what I mean.