returning to a glass house
made to shatter really loud
I close my eyes
from every shout to
counting every mirror
being thrown to the wall
one by one
I count them all
from one to one hundred
every reflection becomes a memory
to a fake fantasy of hopes and dreams
to it falling on the ground
making me into a work of art
as I pick up the peaces it all becomes
a work of art built from the devastation of me
I stand in the middle
opening my eyes to witness a masterpiece...
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About the Creator
Love Dalius
A poet stuck on the moon. I post a new poem every two weeks of the month. I hope you enjoy the writing that I share with you.
twitter handle; @DaliusBeckjr
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