I kneel before a lake of silver glass
I see my reflection as clearly
As my hand in front of my faceI reach out
To my identical image
My shaky hand touches my mirror face
But it wrinkles
As if cringing at my touchThe lake starts draining away
The unclear, rippling image I call my face
Dissappearing into the distance
Until it's gone
And there is no more silver glass
In the hollow lake
An empty memory
Of my unclear, wrinkled face
In the silver glass waterLife is never as it seems
For all silver glass lakes
Are hollow inside
Broken promises and empty dreams
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryThis is a book of some poems I've written recently. Some are about me, some are about books, and some are about something else entirely. Either way, I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.