There are times I have seen
where the stars lack in there luster
water just isn’t wet enough
and food can taste quite bland
even color is just a hue
and music a wavering empty note.
It is here that I am sitting
alone in some hazy lit room
looking through a piece of glass
reflecting on the illusion before me.
How I wish so very much
knuckles pressured white
lips pressed with indignation
and the brows rest in question
at the subtle ticks of passing bye.