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Literature Text
Cold and smooth is the surface of glass, but it doesn't have a color,
and it hides the naked truth unlike any other
You look so innocent in the truth, but it really, truly lies,
'cause the person that it sees right now hardly can comply
The glowing glass holds the image of you, but all it sees is perfection
you like to tease it is the truth, though it is only your reflection
Blinded by beauty is the mirror to only notice features
it compares you to the rest, lower than a creature
It can't see your pain inside, or understand your feelings
and you know as you move on, it's yourself you're slowly killing
You let out a cry of pain as you pound your fist into the glass
then you fall onto your knees and hope those feelings swiftly pass
The mirror breaks and is left confused as it lays there shattered
blood drips down your raw hand and your breathing slowly patterns
Now the mirror is just like you, it's broken and a mess
and you can't repair the pieces which are lower than they are less
Though as you stare into the shards the truth is what you see
pieces shattered of yourself, just ruined quality
The mirror was a sneaky tool to prevaricate the void
something that you can't escape and one you can't avoid
Swindler, spurious, and vague, it rests in stagnation
and as you slowly walk away you pretend it was your imagination
and it hides the naked truth unlike any other
You look so innocent in the truth, but it really, truly lies,
'cause the person that it sees right now hardly can comply
The glowing glass holds the image of you, but all it sees is perfection
you like to tease it is the truth, though it is only your reflection
Blinded by beauty is the mirror to only notice features
it compares you to the rest, lower than a creature
It can't see your pain inside, or understand your feelings
and you know as you move on, it's yourself you're slowly killing
You let out a cry of pain as you pound your fist into the glass
then you fall onto your knees and hope those feelings swiftly pass
The mirror breaks and is left confused as it lays there shattered
blood drips down your raw hand and your breathing slowly patterns
Now the mirror is just like you, it's broken and a mess
and you can't repair the pieces which are lower than they are less
Though as you stare into the shards the truth is what you see
pieces shattered of yourself, just ruined quality
The mirror was a sneaky tool to prevaricate the void
something that you can't escape and one you can't avoid
Swindler, spurious, and vague, it rests in stagnation
and as you slowly walk away you pretend it was your imagination
Literature
The Tears Are Dried
The tears are dried, but I still cry
There is something in me that won't stop
My sadness has ended, but I'm not happy
There is something in me that won't let me
I'm trapped in the past, and recovery is 50 miles away
I have tried walking but I do not get any closer
The blessings I have had, they are counted
Now I will find all my curses
I think I deserve this, am I wrong?
Can even the one up above forgive me?
Moving on, oh I wish I could
But my heart is stuck and I can't help it
The tears have dried, but I still cry
There is something in me that won't stop
Literature
I'm Worthless
Don't tell me I'm worthless
Don't tell me I'm nothing
You can't change me
Because I used to be something
I used to be
But I lost my ways
Instead of helping
You double my pain
Don't tell me I'm worthless
I already know it
Literature
In My Memories
In My Memories
My love for you felt like frost-bitten pins
My heart, body, mind, and soul were numbing
This double-edged conscience~
No hands were lent / No hands to take
Abandonment Abandonment Abandonment
Countless tears to shed / Countless tears to make
Abolishment Abolishment Abolishment
-
The thoughts of you are like venomous-needles
After the emotions are injected the end seems less beautiful
Pain is unforgettable~
This unrequited suffering is self-made
No affection No affection No affection
I hoped you were the one but I fell for you too late
Bad medicine Bad medicine Bad medicine
-
The lights that instantly caugh
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When I was in high school I use to read a lot of poems about identity and how people would try and figure out who they actually were. There were some about dolls and comparing them to objects and then a few I read about mirrors, but none of them in my opinion caught the feeling I wanted to capture. This poem is quite messy, but regardless I still like it.
I am glad I attempted to write it anyway. xD It didn't take me too long. I was lazy after work and decided to scribble down some ideas caught up inside my head.
Anyway, I hope you guys like it.
© 2012 - 2024 Sasurealian
Comments196
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so very true