Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.116.89.157
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
I look in the mirror and I lock eyes with a vile wretch
The physical embodiment of mankinds ugliest stares back
Peering into a window I catch a glimpse of every imperfection buried deep within my soul
I shatter the mirror the pain of the reflection overpowering the feelings of the glass now stuck in my hand
Another reminder of why life has always tip toed around my existant
excusing itself to a world relieved of my presence
free from the uncomfortable questions of a curious mind
And the free expression of a soul that danced to its own seranade for lack of a better option
Free from a spirit that could not be contorted into the place society had etched out for it
But contorting into something unwanted something disconcerting
carving a way through unfamiliar terrain in the hope of finding a place it could call home
Gathering scars and wounds so deep they cut into the soul tainting it with the corruption and hate 
spilling out of the daggers of alienation stabbing from unkind strangers in a world of contempt
glowing brighter with every new experience unclear of whether its transcending or descending 
growing graceful and grotesque colouring outside of the lines of societies expectances
On this journey my eyes lock with a pair of blue-green eyes shining with the brightness of familiarity
But where in the mirror I had seen something odd, out of place and unwelcome
in her eyes danced the beauty of the universe's most perfect creation
The oddities and strangeness not subtracting from but somehow adding to her mysterious charm
Where I saw the failure in my own design reflected in her I saw only the perfection of a vibrant soul
My scientific mind had its first taste of destiny as the will of fate was pulling at my heartstrings
As if all of the struggles of life had been overcome just for this one moment where I could see this being of a divinity
And in the reflection of my eye she saw only the reflection of herself a reflection society had told her to depise
like the vile wretch of a man society tells her is standing before her 
but she sees in me the same that I see in her 
an essence of perfection whose far too good for me
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required