The Glass

A more personal, sensitive piece for me.


The Glass

There’s a barrier between us

From the ceiling to the floor

I’m looking at you

And I don’t understand what it’s for

I’m looking at you through the glass

And I can’t break it down

It’s strong and won’t break

No matter how much I kick, scream, and pound

A conversation through an old telephone

The cord is clearly broken

I press it to my ear and stare at you

I hang on to every word you’ve spoken

This glass that separates us,

Does it keep you in, or keep me out?

I wish we could be alone

Without these guards wandering about

What I’d give to hug you

To tear down this wall

To set you free from your side

To change the stupid law

But this glass stands between us

Even though it’s not really glass

I match my palm to yours against it

How much longer until I can hug my Dad?

© Chelsie Cummings 2016

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