Sight Poem by Inigo Rivera
Sight
And the sight
of just one single human being in suffer
makes me want to die.
And the sight
of just one single human being in pleasure
makes me want to die,
too.
But the sight
of my own body in the mirror
brings me no feeling whatsoever.
Why?
Friday, January 31, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: mirror
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8/28/2026 9:40:24 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
