When I was sixteen
I directed the beam of light from a spotlight
pointing
to where audience attention was needed.
A variety of filters
affixed prior to the origin of the beam
allowed me to change its color --
red, blue, green.
Now I am not sixteen
the only spotlight I direct are my eyes
pointing
to what demands attention.
Only one color of filter,
bonded to the glass panes nailed to my head
force a singular vision:
death, death, death.
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