Mirrors

A dim, dying light Weak as it is, it pierces the body Of a boy longing to be a man Unmoving, unknowing, unfeeling Uncertain, unseeing, uncaring On the cold, dark ground Broken pieces of the Mirror The Mirror which he hated Grasping his bleeding hands That shattered the glass That silently screamed who he was...and is The second he walked through the door Of his mind and his essence The darkness cornered him Whispering screams of reality Too afraid to move forward Too fearful of what he might see He broke the Mirror That could've set him free Broken pieces Of the face in the mirror Shattered shards Reflecting different angles Of himself, of his life Of his whole existence He shut his eyes violently Refusing to acknowledge Refusing to admit That what he saw in the Mirror was really him He ran with eyes wide shut Stepping on broken pieces Of the Mirror That could've set him free Blood-drenched feet Stumble and fall And fall again Fear has a price Especially with mirrors. Don't break the Mirror That sets you free. Written March 27th, 2002 © on Mar 27 2002 02:21 PM PST   0 • 1