A mirror. When peered at, you see yourself, Looking back just as intently. There are fun mirrors, Mirrors that make you skinny, Mirrors that make you warped, Mirrors that obscure you. A mirror that shows your past, Is one where you reflect on how much you've changed. You already know what's on the other side. You know where the cracks and crevices are. You know where it could be polished, But remains untouched. This is my mirror to the past. It's been six years, Of rambling, writing and reflecting. It started out as childish stories, Became rhyming fun, Random write-ups, Amateur poetry, Currently at free verses. Where am I headed to next?
The rain fell from the sky, Drenching all of us together. I held the umbrella, waiting for them to join, They took it, and went away. One or two of them turned to thank me, But none of them stayed and asked me to join. I stood rooted to the spot, staring at the puddles, Staring at my reflection, wavered by ripples. Raindrops or tears? I didn't know, But I knew they'd left me all alone. The sun, blazing in the sky, I sit under a tree, hiding in the shade, And they all come to me, Sit beside me, sweet talk me, Slowly push me away. Until they're all crowded together, Laughing merrily as I stare; Left under the burning sun, back on fire, Sweat or tears? I didn't know, But I knew I didn't want to be right there. The sky was beautiful, the sunset painting a scenery, As I watched from the balcony, eyes wide with surprise. And they all came to me, fooled me with charm, As yet...