Prose in a mirror, words in a trap. Reflecting, and refracting as in a war. Oh no! Stanzas appear backwards, Even though their meanings are the same.
I gaze upon my graffiti Not aware of the irony within.
All at once, as if I had dyslexia,
My mind began to hum. In the mirror, my poem and I Right was left and left was the other. Reading aloud was difficult, yet made me hear, Of the meaning in my scenario. Reflecting, one can see in the mirror.
*Double Acrostic: Starting and ending each line with the letters that spell the title of the poem.