Imagine my surprise, when I learned you were deeply in love with your own brown eyes,
Watching your reflection as they gleamed in mine
You are beautiful truly, even a wayward fool could see. If not a soul could resist your beauty,
How is the mirror to disagree?
Kept busy by your radiant reflection, you had little affection to spare.
So ensnared, you often mistook your vanity for angelity .
So I sit back, once again invisible to your selfish eyes I mournfully realize,
A narcissist is to never to love me.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
Imagine my surprise, when I learned you were deeply in love with your own brown eyes,
Watching your reflection as they gleamed in mine
You are beautiful truly, even a wayward fool could see. If not a soul could resist your beauty,
How is the mirror to disagree?
Kept busy by your radiant reflection, you had little affection to spare.
So ensnared, you often mistook your vanity for angelity .
So I sit back, once again invisible to your selfish eyes I mournfully realize,
A narcissist is to never to love me.
I have developed a obsession with the concept of narcissism. I have observed it myself and others, and finally was able to capture it in a poem.
Request permission to use this poem