In such a reflection-
Shows a glimpse of the neglected-
Unspoken agendas and desires of perfection-
Within thine inner self begins the wrestling-
Scattered thoughts lost amidst chaos of time-
A pen and pad to express hurt through a rhyme-
A withered flower cast away and died-
What is it with the reflection and not being able to look in the eyes-
Is the pain to unbearable to see-
A breathtaking pain that would bring most down to their knees-
It is a hole that lays yet forever with a void-
Deep within screaming for help as passerby’s can not hear a noise-
This is the evolution of life -
The shadows that carry on through the days light-
For the world is spun through deceitful inception-
A walking signal seeking hope with no reception-
This is the desert where bones tend to dry-
Where the pain burns like the sun as tear evaporate as you cry-
Shalt a mirage pay a visit to the mind-
Remembrance of deceitful receipts of happiness which were corrupt and a lie-
For it is said that time doeth heal-
But what can chase away a pain that’s oh so real-
For where is the door to escape such a reality-
When the heart doeth wither away in all totality-
What must it take for such pain to escape-
For doeth the land not have enough alcohol to chase-
It is the heart that grows weary and faint-
It is the brush the falls out the artist hands as he paints-
For it was a mistake yet to draw-
When it’s evident that all the pieces were yet destined to fall-
It is the reflection though not brave enough to face-
Wishing to vanish behind the mirror without a trace-
Yet wishing to be erased-
Is better than for feelings to be faced-
For whom has the mockery of such a life in their hands-
To let such a good heart wither in the desert sands-
Shall I walk towards my tomb-
As I am destined to walk this earth alone-
For such liberation of heart so often misunderstood-
That despite’s doing well for others seems to be befallen with no good-
How much more can one yet take-
When pain seems to purse through ones lips with every breath you take-
As for a destiny there is none-
As I oppose the mirror and for my life am on the run-

This poem is about: 
Our world


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