A window silently gives chance reflection
And an ability to see through what was, perhaps,
once a wall, mortar and mortal.
Standing, still,
structured and supporting.
Hands made you and then betrayed you.
And what of what once hung upon it?
For now this pane serves as a self portrait
To the fleet of foot who pass you by.
Mirror, mirror, once a wall
Reflect, hold fast and tell us all.
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