Wiping away the stains
of yesterday's past,
I stare into the lives of others
and watch the clockwork motions.

My life is on mute;
the suspension a blissful curse.
Looking level into a dancing movie
I am a black and white audience.

It is like a retrospect mirror,
seeing where I once was,
what I thought was satisfaction,
whom they move the next in line.

Sometimes the animated faces
look upon my retracted face,
and almost begin to see
how truly stuck they are.

But no matter how long
my cold fingers press against the glass
their frozen minds will never understand
just how high I am flying.