Your hands are mirrors.
Hide your eyes behind them.
Welcomed with open arms to the world of vanity,
an arrogant grin peels open from your face.
Your background Ignored: a blurred oil painting, timed anti-clockwise.
There's a blot on the canvas -
care to repair?
The painting develops into a framed photo.
Love caught in a blinding flash.
The ink blot re-emerges,
the photo dribbles black tears.
Abusing Respect,
Your eyes undress wondrous possibilities,
Running away from a portrait, streaming thick droplets chase you.
Desperate to feel whole again?
You selfish little boy.
Memories scare you
you turn to your mirror for security.
As the clock hand turns faster,
your body will jolt
at the sound of ringing realisation.
You never realise what you have until you lose it.