I ask my reflection “So who are you?”
Staring at his face I once knew so well
Unsure of what to say or what to do
In my heart I know it’s best not to dwell
For all this time, was it a painted mask?
Did my reflection prance in other’s clothes?
So many questions I have left to ask
Cup that was once empty now overflows
I can no longer bear to look at glass
Because I see the blemishes in me
Stuck simply ignoring it as I pass
My dear reflection must ache, doesn’t she?
Mustn't forget the shard in my pocket
Each glance shocks like a fork in a socket
YOU ARE READING
Love and Fantasy
Poetrypoems written between classes, in notebooks, over lunches, and in the shower. ranging from emotional haikus to fictitious sonnets. are you looking for angst, fun, heartbreak, and an odd tangent about pigeons? read this then my dear fellow #1 in Pers...
