Mirror, Mirror (Superstitions # 2)
The pieces there, Hands bleeding, Shattered mirror, Fate cast, So the legend goes. Mirror, mirror, To hold such darkness, A binding spell, I think, Of long ago. Yet magic born, Out of words, Words become thought, Thought becomes deed, Or I do suppose. We carry our own, This thing called luck, Took me long, To come to terms, Yet I have done it here. I face my own challenges, Walk my own paths, Make my own mistakes, Luck doesn't happen, Because of a broken mirror. Written January 15th, 2002 © on Jan 15 2002 01:40 AM PST, Phyllis Thompson 0 • 10
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"The pieces there,..."