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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1505617
A mirrors' view... what's seen...
Mirror, mirror,
You are standing against the wall.
I look into you to see me
But my eyes they do fall.

Mirror, my mirror,
Oh how i wish you were my friend.
But there's no one looking back at me
When it is i that is looking in.

Mirror, oh mirror,
Why must this be?
When i look into your cold, cold glass
i can see none of me.

i see what was,
And all who have shared in this sad old core,
But i can see not i.
For i am no more.

Though there is always a tomorrow
On life's most wavy shore.
For me, i can see not a ripple
As i stand here on this lonely floor.

I am here looking in to see what image there is left of me,
But i can find there is not a trace.
For when i look into your cold and rigid stare,
I can see there is only an old stranger's face.

Mirror, poor mirror,
How i could feel for thee
You stand here looking out, and what do you see?
Is it, could it, could it really be me?

Mirror, you silly mirror,
all there is i feel is your cold and icy glaze.
Is this all there is for me,
for the rest of my days?

Mirror, my poor, poor mirror,
i look in and i can no longer endure.
Oh, with my bloody, bloody hands i look down;
Now, you are merely shards of glass lying on the floor.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1505617-Mirror