As I stood outside my window
I saw reflections there
'Twas of a tranquil garden
With flowers everywhere.
Trees and shrubs were swaying
In a warm summer breeze
But as I gazed upon the ground
My blood began to freeze.
There lay this little crumpled form
Sprawled out before my feet
A voice, silenced by reflections
Whose heart had ceased to beat.
Just because it looks so real
Doesn't actually mean it's so.
Reflections are but images
Reflections come and go.

by Robert H. Thayer

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