Art Holds A Mirror Up To Life

but it's flawed, at best--
I'll give you no true sight,
just your face, kaleidoscope-shattered
and framed by broken rainbows.

The glitter just distracts.
If it's Truth you seek, kick out the glass
and step through my crooked frame.
There may be a path--
how would I know? I can't look behind.

But if you find the hinges,
swing me aside and pass through
and leave me looking the way you go,
leave me reflecting
what you went to find.