Through The Looking Glass

   

Through the looking glass
She stares,
Her reflection – a ghostly echo,
A time long spent,
In thinking,
And contemplation,
Of lines and scars,
The outline of her mask,
Jaded by the grass.
The linage of her ancestors,
A field of wire threads,
Cloaking her tired eyes,
Wrinkles and creases,
Running horizontal,
Throwing light over her tender mouth,
The cask of judgment, draping over course,
Hiding behind, the harsh reality of life,
In folded limbs and weeping cries,
In the looking glass,
The cruellest conviction inflicted by self. 

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15 thoughts on “Through The Looking Glass

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