Lilith SpiritTheif

Reflection Reversed

I press my hands against the glass,
No longer able to touch the grass,
That waits outside in summer’s breeze,
And surrounds the sweet suckle trees.

I bang against this glass that’s frail.
It keeps me prisoner, it is my jail.
I try to scream, “That’s not me! ”
But that is who they really see,

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