Analysis of The Telephone Room

The sun gleams through old, stained glass windows;
the clock's always stuck at 10:37.
I'm far away from the rest -
swimming through an effortless heaven
of silent observation.
From far away I hear a sound -
the sound of shuffling feet and
excited voices.
The sun still peeks through stained glass
Yet I can't help but wonder
If I'm strange

To float along

Where time stopped existing
as I'm so far away
from the sound
of my peers