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Mirror On The Wall

As I stand in front of the mirror tonight,

I cannot look into my eyes,

Shocked at the things I do,

Surprised at the words I drew,

To write poetries on,

To draft letters long,

Carving my own grave,

With flowers and eulogies prepaid.

As I ask the mirror on the wall,

Who is the brainless of all,

It laughs so hard,

That it shatters,

Scattering pieces unbothered.

I collect the pieces,

One by one,

In none I can meet my eye,

Without no hatred lathered.

 
 
 

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