I tires me,
And I've given up,
Fighting this mirror, in front of me.
It sorrows me,
The bruises and cuts,
The faded glances, I see.
From the shattered prism,
This reflecting chasm,
Showing me and endless sea.
It tires me,
To walk away,
And still feel the sight,
Of that mirror bright,
Oh it tires me,
For I cant forget,
The regret I beget,
Over me.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
