Shades. A poem.

Those sunglasses look cool
Such hidden depths

What hides behind the dark
What insecurities crouch

Is it you or someone else
Lurking behind the wall

Maybe I see too much
Just shades of you
And me


I once found a pair of brand new sunglasses in an elevator. Rather than turn them in, I decided to keep them (terrible of me, I know).

They change the shape of my face when I wear them, almost making me a different person. When they’re on, I almost have a sense of increased confidence and lessened anxiety.

Does that happen with you, too?

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