The mirror


You stare at the mirror,

And a beast stares back,

You smash it in anger,

For you don't like what you see.

You think you look distasteful,

And you so long to change.

But in my eyes,

You are pleasuring to thy eye.

If you could only see, what I see,

Then maybe you'd understand,

Why I feel the way that I do.

Day after day, year after year,

I've stood by your side,

And concealed my ever growing feelings,

Until that moment, that your hand grasped mine,

In this moment doors swung open,

Ones that I had locked away. 

And all of those concealed feelings,

Now have returned.

You stare into the mirror again,

But this time the picture is clearer.

And you start to see,

The person you so longed to be.

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nightlight1220's picture

I like it. A lot. ....

I like it. A lot.


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "