How long z that
When I last took
A look at myself
In the mirror?
Not that I did it often
As I grew into adulthood
There have been people
To tell me what I look like
And I went by their words
Today I'm afraid,
All those words
Didn't really suffice
What this being wrapped
In this skin really is
No longer do I harbour
Any more illusions of
What I'm today, NOW
Yet I'm scared of mirrors
What if they lied to me
To pull me into another trap...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The question who is more truthful, mirrors or how others describe us. Do they describe us by how we look, or how we feel.