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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 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
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