When did my walls become my barriers.
My fortifications became my prison.
The comfort of stone shifted into cold iron bars.
Why must the world be just beyond the glass?

When did innocence become a sin?
Why must weightlessness be heavy to bear?
Why must what I need, and what I desire exist
On opposite sides of the mirror.

And I can just see you.
See me. Just out of reach.
Just within the camera lens.
Just within the negatives of film.

But who would I be in black and white?
On the reverse side of the mirror
Where left is right, and right is wrong.
Who am I in the negatives?
I wouldn't be me.
That isn't me.

Too bad, though.
'Cause me just isn't good enough.