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The Regressive Reflection of Insanity

By Peter Scott

I can not take
His violent stare
Gazing back
When I need care
Fingers
Like slender blobs
Figures
Blurred beyond recall
Little hope
Let me rest still
Somewhere
Anyplace at all
Away from those eyes
Knowing our movement
Watching my thoughts
Reality has shattered
For without my spectacles
Permanent haze will settle
Yet I will choose that fate
To escape those eyes
Reflective eyes
Eyes of my soul.

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