Robert Aaron Firth
Poem by Robert Aaron Firth
I awoke one morning and the mirror cracked,
said a stranger to me.
Perhaps it was an image of truth,
said I to he.
It is difficult to know yourself,
said I to the stranger.
We turn to fortune tellers and tarot cards,
expecting someone else, to ward off the danger.
Could I find the truth if I went to school,
said the stranger to me.
Scholars and sages, replied I , can only teach so much,
you must turn the pages by yourself, and see.
Then he stranger basked,
what should I do, we're all on borrowed time?
I replied as I stared at him aghast,
you can't find your answers, not the psychic hot line.
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