My Reflection

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I can't even tell you how old this poem is. It is from my more depressing days, though. My teachers thought it was pretty good.

Submitted: February 27, 2007

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Submitted: February 27, 2007



Everyday you wake up and expect someone
to be there.
But not everyone will love you

Not everyone will care.

When tears fall fast and heavy into
a lap the world's never seen,
You don't know who to trust and you
don't know who you're being.

Against this war you have always
pledged to be,
But they can never truely see as
you see.

Alone and unloved, standing out
in a crowd,
Above all others, your cries of torment
are never loud.

You walk a lonely path and no one
seems to be there.
But at the end, awaits those who do
truely care.

You can't be too sure or forgiving
at times.
And your poems are laments that
always seem to rhyme.

In a cracked, distorted mirror, therein
lies your reflection,
Oh wait. That's me, in all my torment.
That's my own reflection.

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