My Mirror

MY MIRROR The Bright Morning Star wakes me as body adhere, moveable joints leads me to the replica of me. This is a lifetime routine i'm accustomed to. And I, a lonely audience, see you equal my feet even from my secluded abode with a breakable wall setting us asunder, Just as reality dawns on a dreamer, he barricades himself, facedly pose in early morning looks and I wonder how even mother never knew we're twin. With sudden calculated moves he looms before me, concentrated and calculated like me. Seeing my world doubled; your act dribbles my imaginations. Nothing I could teach you cos you know just as I do maybe even far more than I can ever imagine. Thy law of imitation changes not & forever won't which means we can be together but not in this life. Though I manage a façade of indifference yet my astonishment at this wonder drowns & overwhelms me. Though sometimes I anxious for you while lost in thought, something seem so assuring that you're safe like a Joey in the pouch of a mother Kangaroo as I behold a place reminiscent like your confinement where the diabolic cease from troubling and there, the weary are at absolute peace, not the prisoners place, resting in captivity, in the home of the innocent & guilty where they became housemates by court verdict, as the servant is free from his master and can only hear the voice of the oppressor & intimidator, scarred away from their torture into his new norm of living. Then I stare at my doppelganger, no jealousy but love, wondering about life's competition & jealousy when the sky is enough to contain all birds destined to fly. Then I recogne you're my only rivalry; the hero in MY MIRROR, who has a black-brownish hair & brown complexion with an x-shaped scar at the end of his right eyebrow and another faint scar below his forehead, managing a rose nose with moustache & full sensual lips above his goatee; slightly oval face with small ears & no sideboards and a neck crested with Adam's apple & collarbone. He's the only man that makes me so inferior and make me grope to aspire to equal because he's made for greatness & destined to be a conqueror, he's the picture I'm painting since childhood until when I inhabit the world I once never understood. You charge me not to be Honda (under) but always be on top and Range like a Rover and you schooled me to reign till I grow older which will turn my dreams into reality forever and set my joy to see as the years roll over. Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP} Copyright ©2013.