Decay Through Mirror
A critical friend - my mirror - stands in front
And yearns me to see what I can’t visibly see;
From the few gray hairs that faintly adorn my head,
I see a displaced gray hair fluttering to flee.
Beneath the coat of icing, buried wrinkles squeak;
My teeth at misleading mirror - hotly clatter,
While an uprooted tooth on lower jaw – bewails.
I swear, this corroded mirror, I will batter.
Rhyming scheme: ABCB
12 syllables in each line (Ref. howmanysyllables)
*A 2nd Place* in the following contest (judged on Sept. 29, 2020)
Sept. 26, 2020
Writing Challenge – Decay – Poetry Contest
Constance La France
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2020
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