Broken Mirrow Poem by Poetic Judy Emery

BROKEN MIRROW

Written on the wall, right down the hall
where the mirrow hangs;
you will see my name in fame
covered in the blood of shame,
where the reflections of me are broken with
stained glass, where the old pain last,
it was a time in late spring
where he made all the slaves scream.
upon the tallest mountains in many dreams
I have seen painful things,
Where it always rains
Where the patterns of my own broken past
started making its way back,
I looked in the broken mirror
where all my own tears flowed of long ago,
where the darkness hovered over me
that brought me down to my knees,
I felt I could no longer breath
I had to ask ‘'Why, '' is this happing to me?
where the colored dust made a home
in this cold darken thrown,
were love has vanished far away from me
where the light is always on dim,
I felt my spirit slowly dying fast
Yet, I am still so very much alive,
All my words were once forgotten
But now they are very much spoken,
That is touching others' lives,
Oh, come look at the pieces of my own broken mirror,
that has been shattered all over the place
Come, you people and see
What the haters of lies had once cut me deep,
Read my story that is written on the wall
Right down the hall, were that big old mirror is hanging,
You will find the blood of me is pouring in the words
Of me that is written in blood stain ink,
see how they are slowly gathering
back together again in any type of weather
my heart and soul that was once shattered
is becoming whole, where love and peace
has set me free…
from all those who has been hating on me.
Come, see my reflections of my identity
Who writes stories of darken dreams
I am that queen that you read about.

Poetic Judy Emery © 2017 Time 9: 00 PM 017