Mirror
Every morning,
It comes down from the wall
looks at my face
Combing the fingers through the hair.
Showing the teeth and lips.
That time,
Realizing I’m a mirror
Feels like all streets,
vehicles, shops, and trees
looking at me.
My emotion is not mine
It is yours,
My Eyes are not mine
They may be gazes of stars,
These hands are not mine
They may be branches of trees.
Yes, I am a mirror
Bearing the reflections of others.
Copyright © Shihabudheen Kumbidi | Year Posted 2018
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