Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2015
The man in the mirror
envelops his fractal fingers
over my scathing sight,
seeking quixotic symmetry,
the apogean gift of harmony,
with his enigmatic allure,
disillusions me off vanity;
off a falsifying dream.
The liar traps me in his liar,
to aid in his endless search for perfection
while shaming me for the sins I repent.
Vanity is one nasty thing.
Arvind Srinivasan
Written by
Arvind Srinivasan  Chennai, TN, India
(Chennai, TN, India)   
2.1k
   Anand and CapsLock
Please log in to view and add comments on poems