Art, Books, Experimental, Hauntings, Poims, short-short, Young Adult

Were I the Reflection within the Mirror

Were I the Reflection Within the Mirror

Were I the reflection within the mirror,
So skillfully,
So tastefully drawn, by time
And circumstance,
To stand erect and aloof, contemplating the contour lines
Of a face drawn and haggard
By the ravages of age.
I could dance amidst the tick-tock
Magic of days,
Wander through the empty, labyrinthine halls
Of SELF,
Scream at the lonely hours hissing by
In somnolent reverie; and wonder, oh wonder, Where truth ends,
Reality stops,
And reflective illusion takes the reigns…

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