My window's laughing, can't you hear?
A lamenting, mournful snide.
It finds my sobs amusing,
And it snickers at my pride.
It tells me that I'm worthless;
A ridiculed recluse.
It thinks that I'd to best
To find my comfort in a nuise.
At first I failed to listen;
But unkind words are comic things.
And now that's all I hear;
These rhyming riddles os severed wings.
It's like a mirror, really; a glass portal to
A place I can't reach.
It's my boundary; my vice. The one torn
Appendage I'll never breach.
Its steel, glazed clear surface
Leaves burns across my skin;
An its grip will never shatter…
…So I know I'll never win.