Are we all just broken mirrors?
Merely a collection of reflections,
A thousand shards like shields
under which we hide, and therefore deny,
These scars we cannot heal?
What do these surfaces show us?
A covering of caricatures as
a substitute for skin?
A means to deflect, so none may detect
The person lost within?
How do we perceive each other;
As people? Or as purely pixels now –
A series of small screens,
An infinity of identities
in which our souls cannot be seen?
Are we all just broken mirrors?
Too distorted to support the burden
of the shared shame we feel?
What if we take the time to realign
Our falsified ideals?