Paper Portrait

There are pins in papers up on that wall; they are creating a pattern, so don't allow them to fall.

Each pin is placed precisely so, and each paper is exactly where it should go.

But my pattern, you see, is just for me.

My pattern is not for others to see.

This picture created, an overall scene, can't be understood unless you've been where I've been.

Unless you've seen what I've Seen.

The pins in the papers hold the pattern together; when the wind flows through the room they all ruffle like feathers.

They move. They shake. The pictures distorted.

I'll have to wait til' they settle to make sure they're all sorted.

The pattern is important, it's a mirror you see. The pattern is important, otherwise,

Who sees me?