Mirror, Mirror, look at me, and tell me truly what you see.
I gaze in wonder at empty eyes, and watch the tears fall as she cries.
She seems so strong and yet so weak, who is this girl? She's new to me.
She's fighting hard, she struggles so, it seems as if she wants to go.
But there she stands, staring, waiting, a childish innocence is slowly fading.
She's witnessed something cruel and dark, she suffers from a broken heart.
Her tired eyes have not seen rest, I watch the rise and fall of her chest.
Deep inside's a hurricane, she's battling against the rain,
She lifts her shirt, and her face is breaking, she howls in pain and isn't faking.
As the tears fall she strokes her tummy, reminded its true that she is a mommy,
A dark line is evidence of what was lost, the innocent child, her painful loss.
I do not know the woman she became, but something has changed in all this pain.
Her laugh is so hollow, her voice slightly off, she tries to be normal but can't pull it off.
She fights back the weakness, clinging to strength, she wants to hold on at any length.
Over and over she comes to the mirror, hoping to see things a little more clearer.
So again I ask, with your face made of glass,
Mirror, mirror, look at me, and tell me what you truly see.
By: Andrea Gimlin
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.