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disarmePoems
For this I stand infront the mirror quiet as dead. Looking. And a whisper dives at my eyes piercing my head. I never knew whow he was... Me? An idol? A pale form? For that I stand infront the mirror with the millions tales. Waiting for a story from every face.
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Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 10:08 AM UTC
The mirror
For this I stand infront the mirror quiet as dead. Looking. And a whisper dives at my eyes piercing my head. I never knew whow he was... Me? An idol? A pale form? For that I stand infront the mirror with the millions tales. Waiting for a story from every face.
disarme
Written by
disarme
Greek
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 10:08 AM UTC
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