Perception of Reflection

Cracked, fractured, and broken is this mirrored glass that hangs before me. My gaze passes over the crowd of eyes looking back at me, blank stares awaiting an answer to their question. "What are we?" Are we the contents of a ragged soul bound in scar tissue? Are we a chaotic mind begging for peace? Are we a lonely heart longing to hold someone till all our emptiness is filled? Could it be we are just these words, made of similar letters yet our meanings are worlds apart depending on the reader. Existing between the chapters of our life and death, standing upon pages of the past, and buried under those of the future. Perhaps we are but a single verse, in the stanza of our life, lost within the poetry of time.