Up where I belong

Self-discovery is illusive.
And trying hard for it is like looking for a trophy
In a maze.
Either you come out empty-handed
Or you never come back.

When two sad eyes look through me
At the door of the labyrinth I am about to cross,
The woolly greens disappear and
I walk home.

And when I am back,
I know I belong up on the wall -
A face on the Cracked Portrait.