we run through life's tunnel--
terrified,
walls covered in mirrors,
our reflections always on display
for the passersby.

a straight path,
reminding us of our imperfect
reflections,
until we reach the end--
glass hitting us right in the face.

that's all we see at the end--
ourselves,
and all the people we wished we could be,
replacing our reflection.

in reflections, what we see
is never what we want to be.