Stained Glass

You stare at me,
your big green eyes
haunting me,
as your life 
hangs in a small
glass
shell,
a glass barrier.
Your gaze never lifts,
your statuistic pose never flinches,
your confidence never withers,
as a flower does
at the end of its life. 
Therefore,
you never die,
and I always count on you,
as I glance at the quiet 
road,
the still houses,
out my big front window. 
Your colors don't blend,
they show with pride,
in shaped formations.
You may be known as only stained glass,
but there is much more within that small,
glass shell.
 

Scarry Night

VT

16 years old

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