Glass

I wonder over,

over the glass,

of this cold window,

what could I be.

I see my reflex,

I see the lights over,

of a world changing,

and a me, still asleep.

I forgot much of me,

I forgot to call,

I forgot to take myself,

go out in search of gold.

I'm not a monster,

one that keeps its own dream shorter.

I'm not a monster,

not what I deserved,

in the time lost,

in the damage done,

in cries of a past gone.

What could I be,

a song says,

but I shall go on,

and let me be,

be something more.