Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
the mirrors reflection
only ever spoke of her
as
weak, alone, a ghost
pitiful, mournful
wonder-less at most


it was her place to hide
but the mirror
LIED

she punched it
with her fist
until it was
shattered
and
broken
bleeding into the cracks
until it became
a
*reflection
                 truly
                          spoken
Helen
Written by
Helen  nowhere special
(nowhere special)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems