house of mirrors / 27.09.18
cold, desolate
reflections.
running around,
we look into ourselves.
mirrors contort forms,
leaving souls alone.
we stretch and
shorten, being fattened
and twisted.
look into the mirrors,
what they do to you.
they have eyes.
they look into you, too.
judgment.
you change again.
moving, you walk down
the hall to another.
look into the mirrors,
what they will do to you.
they have mouths now.
so they speak to you.
disappointment.
your body molds again.
echoing footsteps follow you,
and you turn to another one.
you can't escape,
you're in the house
of mirrors.
the mirrors study you,
just as you
yourself do.
you change because
they change your outside.
you look different
to them and yourself.
but soul is not changed,
if you have one.
you know yourself,
but do you?
do they?
this isn't really
a very fun house.
YOU ARE READING
We Came From The Dark Ages
PoetryA book of poems written by me. Please note, I'm an amateur and am constantly editing my pieces. This is here to get my work out for others to read. If you have any suggestions for poets to check out, please feel free to let me know :)
