Jester
Behind my mirror the jester hides,
Although carved from wood and glass
He is cold in his ruthless world
I smile back at him unbeknown
He thinks I am taunting him
But I am smiling at myself
For that is a vision i see
My mirror is a puddle upon the road
He constantly looks up
I subconciously look down
Copyright © Rachel-Erika Henderson | Year Posted 2010
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