Who tells the mirrors won't lie?
Wicked is she and fake by heart
Pleased a plenty with those wet eyes
Alike mine eyes, look torn apart
Intact symmetry of no pixel change
I tuck, I raise, so does she with grace
all the close regard seem so strange
Deceived my wise senses in apace
with me she smiles, with me she cries
as a honest fool, I fancied her bait
All the blemishes in perfect disguise
Flipped and being virtual is her trait
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem..the words flow so freely bringing out the poet in you