Listen to poem:
Reflections
Who folds their feelings; to a fist when reaching toward a prize?
They will never touch what's reflected by; or before them lies
What is the purpose of a burn produced by scorching sunrise?
If not to; give all of its reflection to pale moon-lit skies
Where are the clouds after their curtains called to finally rise?
Those reflections on the water; calmly still, are met with seamless ties
Why are raw emotions, treated like a hollow emptying disguise?
Though it doesn't change the beautiful palette, it reflects; of ones eyes
Why do I long to be there when humans come to grips and realize?
That in us all; we reflect true perfection, without a compromise
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