The House of Mirrors

A Poem About the Surreal Nature of Identity

By ebube orjiakorPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read

I walk through the house of mirrors,

My reflection following me.

I am lost in a maze of images,

All of them me.

I see myself young and old,

Fat and thin, happy and sad.

I see myself as I am now,

And as I could be.

I am everywhere and nowhere,

I am all and nothing.

I am the house of mirrors,

And I am the reflection.

I hope you enjoy this poem!

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Written by ebube orjiakor