Converses With My Mirror


My tiny world of poetry is just a few words minced with my thoughts. 

We all must have talked to our selves, to the mirror, sharing the heap of thoughts that we stir in our minds. We must have taken that time to release the thoughts in front of the picture that formed when we faced the mirror. Apparently we realize the mirror is the path, from our eyes to our soul through the mind and the heart.


Fighting the battle of,

I know you, or,

hey do  I know you?

eyes started at the mirror,

and shut themselves slowly, in pain.

Fighting the battle of,

am I you, or you resemble me?

the mind  grappled,

with a mountain of emotions,

facing the mirror, in vain.

Fighting the battle of,

you are pretty, or

 is your mind prettier?

vision blurred in the mirror,

with thoughts fading in strain.

Fighting the battle of,

are you living in your past?,

or, are you set for future,?

the strangled will power,

peeked through mirror after a detain.

Dear mirror on the wall

You find the beauty in my soul 

You are not a pretty lying spell

You lift my spirits from cacophonous hell

Just a mirror, you are my dear.

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