Glass Boxes

Sean Phelan

 

I sit at the edge of this room, In my little glass box

And you can see me

Hear me

Even put your hand to mine

But I don’t feel you

Just the cold glass

And you can hardly tell the difference now

Maybe you can’t see it

Maybe you just don’t care

And eventually you move

And keep moving

Further and further along your path

And the world moves with you

But I can’t move

Not really

I’m stuck in a shell

A cage

I cannot move

My glass box keeps me still