Small Things

Poetry, what else?

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8. Mirror

Glittering in the sunlight,

Shimmering beneath the stars;

The only way it can ever look beautiful

Is when the light refracts on it's surface.

 

Constantly forming images

Of anything within a certain proximity;

That could be described as it's job

But it really doesn't impress me.

 

Hiding from it's power,

Not waiting to see what it will deliver;

I just know I'll hate it

And be forever scarred by it.

 

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

I ask whilst sitting at the side,

Can you help me see who I really am

Or will you keep on deceiving me?

 

Never an answer do I get

However hard I try;

I should be content to look

Solely at the beauty of this mirror.

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