Raindrops roll down the glass,
A child’s laughter echoes forever,
Choices like waxy crayons, sitting in the sun,
Which color shall you choose,
Red for the scary wolf?
Yellow for the dancing sun?
The mirror, it whispers softly…
How many roads must one take?
1? 2? Maybe 100 paths await,
But in each shadow lurks the stranger,
You wave, they wave back,
Dear child, be careful of reflections!
Curious of whispers? Explore:
Lost Paths
Fading Rainbows