Mirrors Poems

Music Mirrors Life

Naivete' gets in the way of what can go wrong.
Youth have a way of dancing to every love song.
In early years I had no fears, daughter then a wife
but rarely does everything go as we planned in life.
'Life's a Dance' and experiences teach us as we go
from trusting souls to questioning adults as we grow.
Sometimes

Little Mirrors

Reflection catches
My guilt .
I lose the trust 
In whatever  , God,  I  pray too.
I need a release ,
I need to take the seat
I need to Stare back at Me.
 
Eyes opening a grave.
Don't won't to  Be IN THE WAY.
I'm  red,  in chains
Im Covered , 
In dirt
Unburied Me slowly.
 I'm

Death Has Crossed My Horizon

I do not heal as when I was young—
Time has slowed its gentle hands,
And left me in a hush of dusk,
With brittle bones and shifting sands.

The skies I once believed would stay
Have wept their stars and turned away,
And I—still dreaming—drift between
The shadowed now, the might-have-been.

My dreams are lucid, sharp as glass,
Each night I walk the

Smash the Mirrors

Me looks in mirrors
My I self has intention
without strings to things
It asks, seeks love, looks outward
enjoying life mirror-free

THE TOMB OF MIRRORS

There’s this voice that echoes inside of me,in the pit of my soul
He has long sharp nails, with which he tears down the walls of my heart,peice by piece
Every time my foot steps on the grass, greener than the day before
He pulls me down into the Earth
And I am submerged into the sea 
Filled with

CRACKED MIRROR

I stared into the mirror too long
And it finally broke beneath my gaze
Not from age, neither from accident 
But the weight of truths I dared not face.

I saw a childhood in pieces
stitched together with borrowed faith
smiles that were survival
and joy that never quite fit.

I tried to imagine someone else
a better version
but the cracks revealed more
than

Iran and Israel: Mirrors in the Dust

In courts of shadow, thrones are made,
Not by virtue—but by blade.
From Persia’s gate to Zion’s hill,
It’s not peace, but will, that breaks the still.

Two lions stare with burning eyes,
Clad in scripture, veiled in lies.
Each speaks of God, yet plays the game—
Where oil is blood and land is fame.

Iran, the scholar cloaked in flame,
Dreams of empires,

Smoke And Mirrors - Channelling in the Spirit of Edgar Allan Poe - A Musical Video- POTD

POTD June 15 2025

Smoke And Mirrors – Channelling in the Spirit of Edgar Allan Poe

When regulation picks at pillaged dreams

The searchlight shines its brutal beams

As shadows spill its borrowed light.

judgement retains its fractured fight.

A blind eye turns as life disbands

the gavel strikes by unseen hands,

The scales unbalanced - Truth? Hard to reach,

Sold by madness -

Without Mirrors

He forgot
how his jaw
used to stretch
in loud laughter.

No mirrors
to watch his days—
just windows,
and distant eyes.

His beard trimmed
by finger’s feel,
a chunk missed
Here and there.

He looked well
in belts and socks,
even handsome
under the sun.

No one asked
if he still knew
the shaded glint
in his own eyes—

the torn shape
of manly lips
once easily thinned
in witty smile.

He dressed
in shiny clothes,
well ironed out
but creased

The Prismatic Self

I say the word and feign a Freudian slip
From between its legs duplicities drip
Often doubling as a quip and tasting chalky, just a bit
History will record the troubling truth
that I never existed if I don’t submit

I’ll submit this thing as if it’s a soliloquy
while being transparent with reverse psychology
When transparency is brutal it packs a

A Wilderness of Mirrors

the puddles of a storm
in a wilderness of lies
~ I wonder, did cavemen
ever see themselves as
    you or I can...
stumbling upon a still pond,
a prehistoric boudoir where
reflections are someone they've
     never met
like puppies perplexed by
   their own images?

is the image real, is it
friend/foe/truth/or deception?

a bear in

A Wilderness Of Mirrors

Forest and mountains speak 
Like you are them and they are you 
Between the silver waters, you seek 
But it's always yourself in view 

At front and side and at your back 
You always see your reflection 
Whether you're in or out of track 
Your face is your perfection 

A wilderness of mirrors
A face surrounded

A Wilderness of Mirrors

What do I see,
you are looking back at me.
In my youth wearing a top of pink polka dots, 
with a skirt of green and orange fabric knots.
As I looked-I laughed until I cried,
every time the wilderness mirrors walk by.
These very old mirrors are such a thrill,
they love my fashion wear even if it is over

Wilderness of Mirrors

    Crossing my bygone golden days
    tumbling in senile decay.
    Lost my well known vitality
    Youth bade by with dazzling sun rays.

                     

A Wilderness of Mirrors

Sometimes it seems as if life is a wilderness of mirrors,
the mirror being how you appear in someone's eyes
I can tell when someone just doesn't get me and has
no desire to get to know me better, it shows in their eyes,
but I can also tell when I connect with someone and the 
reflection of myself

• Short Mirrors Poems
• Famous Mirrors Poems
• Best Mirrors Poems
• Read Mirrors Poems
• Long Mirrors Poems
• Mirrors Quotes