On the other side,
of those glass boundaries,
they are all there,
the founts of my best memories.
Guess I am carrying
the passport, the passes,
and all I would need,
but not the willingness.
I can feel the vacuum,
all around and within.
What am I missing?
Well, everything!
They are all waving,
my memories' founts,
from there beneath,
those wide glass bounds.
I wave back to them,
and everything blurs out,
as my eyes get filled,
I can hear them shout.
I stand still, wondering,
'why cant we all be together',
as time and the crowd
go hell for leather.
Another look at them,
my best memories,
I can see myself,
on those glass boundaries.
