(This poem is actually published in a book called Pen Pads and Poets, Words of hope, google it, there's a free ebook on amazon and lulu)
Mirror, mirror on the wall your obsession with my flaws have caused Rome to fall
Do you like the mirror I wear for its perfectionism is its advertisement of my flaws
Broken, the inability of resurgence, without a conduit to resilience
Why does imperfection sleep on my lips
And the rear of my stomach plunge to the side of my hips
My vanity is impotent seldom strong by weak
For it fling on the words of a braggart that speaks
My eyes are black oceans and appalling grey skies
the sight of my flaws wished me to dies
Put me in my grave for i'm dead already
For every time you stare you you take a little piece of me
Call me if then and or what
for I am a question beyond its answer
Do you like the mirror I wear, for its art
is its perfectionism of my brokenness.
ČTEŠ
Breadcrumbs
PovídkyBreadcrumbs is a poem that showcases the realness of poverty, and the mistreatment the rich perform on the poor.
