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.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
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.
Harrogate, TN April 2013
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