Clear but black,
its pure, mysterious
but mute.
It offers a reflection of what is set before them,
but have no power to act on their own...
YOU ARE READING
365 DAYS.
PoetryI am simply drinking coffee and rather lazily writing poems days after I was supposed to.
DAY 54: Mirrors
Clear but black,
its pure, mysterious
but mute.
It offers a reflection of what is set before them,
but have no power to act on their own...
