The room with so many mirror's
From the moment I cross the threshold
I am surrounded
Hundred's upon hundred's of them maybe more
I can feel their eyes upon me like ice as they pass judgement by way of silent treatment
Who are they to speak of black kettles when they look and act as I do
They know nothing of my pain they know all my pain
As a group they are a formidable opponent but alone I shall conquer them one at a time
But until that day arrives I will avoid the room with so many mirrors
By Patguapo the broken down phantom
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