Apr 2013
In the halls of my first school
I passed bulletin boards
trapped in locked glass cases.
They reflected my bony shoulders
and awkward overbite.
I passed those mirrors every day
to judge the way I walked
and carried my books
about Heaven and Hell.
I wondered how to make myself perfect:
Maybe if I changed, they would have stayed.
I passed bulletin boards
trapped in locked glass cases.
They reflected my bony shoulders
and awkward overbite.
I passed those mirrors every day
to judge the way I walked
and carried my books
about Heaven and Hell.
I wondered how to make myself perfect:
Maybe if I changed, they would have stayed.
I don't really like this one too much, so feel free to critique it all you want. I'd like to work with it more so I can come to appreciate it myself.
