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Hold on to the image
Of the reflection they see
Mirrored in countless eyes
They may as well be lies
For the energy I spend
On preserving my outside
I don't know what to trust
The ice, the sky, a mirage
Only myself, I can replay
My past, my present, a film
Of grey and brown hues
Stained with blood, but
Each is their own judge
Of the life they have lived
To love, to hate, to be loved
By oneself is the question
Nevermind the answer
That comes from others
I may be hypocrisy
But truth cannot be smothered.
YOU ARE READING
THOUGHTLESS │✔️
PoetryThe words The petals On a flower that Thrives by appearance Is only Will merely Be a flimsy Taste of what's inside Why price By the eyes The symmetry Of flawed beauty As though As most Are weighed by Thoughtless ideals For those Four arrows A sma...
