Ficly

Melted Mirror (a poem)

The mirror melts before my eyes,
Silver sludge spreads on the floor,
Reflecting back who I am no more,
Why should this pan of glass,
Get to tell me who is me?

Still over time it just sinks in,
It finally gets under your skin,
To become this thing you aren’t inside,
Eventually the heart grows strong,
And finally admits that this is wrong,

When courage bubbles over and,
Honesty hits the top,
You can finally come clean and say,
That things not me it never was,
But it’s all that peopel see,

Once you open up and,
Come out of hiding to,
Use your own true eyes,
Others can see who you are,
And will never see other wise.

View this story's 1 comments.