Hasty writes on foggy glass



I can tell because of the fog

That I must take special care

I must write my name in it

On the foggy piece of glass

So as to not forget myself

It’s easy to get lost inside

The wisps of “here nor there”

Surrounded by smoky layers

Of “what if’s” and “why not’s”

I write my name so I can tell

I exist somewhere more real

And that I am in real danger

Stuck in a place much worse

Than Alice has ever found

A plane of existence where

All the regrets are lurking

Waiting to jump from clouds

As if they are real monsters

Waiting to release grenades

Full of poisonous green vapor

Where fields of buried mines

Sit armed and trip triggered

Where friends and foes

And passing random strangers

Stop and watch from the shadows

Hidden inside bushes and trees

To laugh and sneer and ridicule

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