Tuesday, 11 October 2011


He tricked himself,
into not believing,
thinking he was trapped
the same as the others
were trapped,
among the mirror reflections
he had created
in the maze.
He had not left
a thread of hope
to follow,
so as to get beyond
the sad eyed cynicism.
He only wanted
to come nearer
to the melancholic tone
of that voice,
as distrusted every word
as if it were another word
meant for someone else
never really for him.
It is so very hard
to keep from wanting
to shatter all the mirrors,
to break through
all the walls of the maze.
It is the hardest thing
to do,
as he left no thread
to follow,
so as to come nearer,
from one side
to the other,
from away to nearer
to where she is
beyond the tragic mirrors
and the sad walls
that he'd created.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thank u, I enjoyed. May I leave a poem here? If u r listening, this is Packleader 66 asking 4 permission.


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