why do so many
walk this world like
in a hall of mirrors?
make up dressed up
messed up wearing illusions
in footprint snows
checking or ignoring
untouchable reflections
in glass framed shows
mirrors can lie
tall short fat thin who sees
deep skin within
ego blows?
precious golden
bowl life is not a red ribbon
cut with silver scissors
mystic waters life ripples
with heart mind consequences
fate time exquisite delivers
look away look away
or bear image true souls
portrait writ in mirrors
entering time
flowing halls
of net mirrors
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem