Maybe Brady


Yourself

Poem by Maybe Brady

The sun rises over you
And you wake to listen to yourself
You try magnifying your arrival
Your elements are as dull as walls

I shall not listen
To you counting your gold stars
You consider yourself a god
Of the blue sky above us

You echo your voices
And they are littered into my ear
I do not listen to you
Create such a ruin

You are married to your mirror
And you try to create a statue to reflect yourself
The statue you create
Is as flat as your shadow

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Rudyard Kipling

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 17, 2007

Poem Edited: Monday, April 25, 2011