Her smile so short, her eyes so dull, small glances at people who pass.
She hides away and there she'll stay, observing through rose coloured glass.
Wishes, hopes and dreams kept away, stored inside her mind.
She sits for hours, tending to flowers in hopes they will be kind.
Now the flowers are wilting, her dreams are tilting. What has she become?
She looks in the mirror, gasps with fear.
She and I are one.
- @ theflowerswillwilt
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Mirror image
PoetryThis is the second poem I ever wrote. I like this poem because it can have different meanings depending on who reads it. To me this poem is about hiding and wishing everything was easier, trying to distract herself from life and trying to ignore th...
