• The halls are silent,
    crowded.
    We move along, as drones,
    to our specified locations.
    Though we are faster, smarter, stronger,
    better;
    we move to a rhythm.
    You can not see it by looking.
    ... But upon further inspection,
    you know we can feel it.

    Left foot.
    Right foot.
    Left foot.
    Right foot.
    No talking.

    We go to the same places,
    everyday.
    We do the same thing,
    everyday.
    We feel the same thing,
    everyday.
    We all do the same thing,
    everyday.

    I've misplaced my friends;
    they disappeared into the halls of unoriginality.
    Someone bumps into me.
    As I turn, I find,

    myself.



    Am I lost in a world of mirrors?