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"Within the Looking Glass" She sees no beauty in the glass her cold reflection bears; the mirror looks back hauntingly against her darkened stares. Her flowing hair falls down her cheek and covers half here side; she glances at it's polished face, not knowing where to hide. Her eyes so warm, yet cold within, she wishes she were free; from who she is, and who she was, and who she is to be. But dearest love and precious gift please use my eyes to see; that angel in the mirror's glass and all that she will be.

Posted by: Classy Creep Mon Oct 06, 2008 @ 03:26am

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chases_the_rain
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Commented on: Mon Oct 06, 2008 @ 04:02am


	Awe, Mike, that's beautiful --- wow, tugged my heart. I think the first two lines are dark and poignant, very heavy, and a great way to start it off. The poem itself seems like one of those times I felt frustrated over something stupid I did, and can't take back, or just knowing that there's something ugly about yourself that you've noticed for the first time, and you're afraid others have seen it all along. Very nice, and you're right, it's got a little optimism at the end, so nice, smooth change of tone. Very pretty, Mike, you do not dissapoint!

Commented on: Sat Oct 18, 2008 @ 08:58am


	Ever stop to think... "Very pretty, Mike, you do not dissapoint!" Sums that up nicely! It's so beautiful! Like she said - heavy to start with, but as I read on it felt less and less so and the bottom lines sort of feel like how shakespeare ended his Sonnet 130 - a romantic relief from the rest of the poem.. ...and forget to start again?

Purple Orchid Petal
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Amazingly Loved
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Commented on: Thu Oct 23, 2008 @ 03:58am


	Wow that is positvly perfect, i loved it.

Commented on: Mon Nov 10, 2008 @ 05:07am


	I had no idea that you did poetry, and it's very good may I add.

Broken to Perfection
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Isnt It Obvious
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Commented on: Thu Aug 12, 2010 @ 12:02am


	My favorite lines: "Her eyes so warm, yet cold within, she wishes she were free; from who she is, who she was, and who she is to be." They strike me every time I read the poem, it's oddly hopeless to wish to be free of who you are. I know this is random, but there's actually a Matchbox Twenty song about that. Nobody really sees themselves how others do, and that in itself is a tragedy sometimes. Because more often than not the ones closest to us know more about us than we do. I love your writing too much =P

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