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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Daily Poetry #34, March 3, 2017 Word: Reflection When I touch this cold surface, Dressed up in white and lace, I wonder if this is really me. Why can't I look at you and see? Is this really the girl I want to be? Hair so neatly done and pretty? Outside, I just want to give chase, And run from what I can't face. When I touch the cold glass, I see a wild kind of lass. Is this the girl I'll love forever? Maybe now, but maybe never. Deciding is just an endeavour, And now, I'm left crying a river. Why can't I be a useful mass? For now, I'll wait for time to pass. When I touch this old thing, I wonder what a new day will bring. Will it be filled with uncertainty, For I will never know what will be? My old friend, I wish you'd let me see, Pray, tell, and show who's the true me. But it's fruitless, the bell doesn't ring, I'm hopeless like a queen without a king. Screaming out in anger, I smash the face, Of a friend who has always filled the space. “Why won't you tell me?! No more!” I cry out like a child, just like before. But I realize what I've done, they're sore, These hands that have broke you to the core. I'm so sorry, as glass litters the place, Along with the beautiful lace. As I look at you with the shard in my hand, Beautiful eyes that reflect a bright new land. Right then, I realized what I was doing wrong, Like a musician correcting a note in a song. I've worried about other's views of me for so long, Doubting myself, I didn't know how to be strong. Smiling to this me, whatever life may demand, I will laugh and find my way to still stand.
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