Man Under The Glass

13 Feb

the hallway’s bright and sterile gray
I wander round in secrecy
I’m wary as you stare me down
I can feel you dissecting me

you say nothing as I sweat
but what you think, I know too well
that I was wrong to venture out
and should have just stayed in my hell

I’ve tried to drink you all away but no escape is found within
your eyes grow larger as I die trapped by the bottle I am in
and oh I know it’s true this too shall pass
with each one of us a man under the glass
and me I see no cause for laws of class
and still I am a man under the glass,
I’m still a man under the glass

and nervously I touch my hair
or rub the bottom of my chin
my thoughts and fears are magnified
as you can see through my thin skin

do I look funny when I walk
it’s my suspicion that I do
and I’ve observed your sad defects
but I don’t point them out in you

you’ve quite a tendency to cut
for every man there are his flaws
though you’re a bird who has no wings
I can still compliment your claws

April 2, 1992 ©1992-2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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