Objects In The Rear View Mirror Appear Closer Than They Are. Poem by William F Glennon

Who is this you hold at arm's length?
Is this who gives you strength?

The broken dreams that disappeared.
Screams in your head no one ever hears.

Like a seashell, you hold to your ear.
Hearing echoes of someone calling your name.
You never stop looking for someone to blame.

Fate has changed. The horizon is different.
You'll always appear closer than they are.
Reflection in the mirror is only an apparition
that dreams don't always go far.