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about mirrows
so i stand about face to glass,
all wound up bout to pass.
twisted images about only me,
inside lies my darkest enemy.
about to cry,
about to die,
wondering why,
shit.
so i stand about to blast crome,
back turned eyes closed about cold steel.
in my past ive been touched, droped,
kissed and licked only once i wished this nympho was picked.
about to say,
about to stop,
i would rather drop,
shit.
sleeping is what i do.
BANG!!!!!
Hey You had me read this poem before but I like it. I write a lot of poems using mirrors. awesome... I like your stuff!
Hmm. Different, not usually my kind of poetry, but it's cool. Keep it up.