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| This poem means alot to me. To me this poem is my life, the life that I wish I never had. But this poem ends with hope. Something that I haven't seen yet, but hopefully will. |
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| This poem means alot to me. To me this poem is my life, the life that I wish I never had. But this poem ends with hope. Something that I haven't seen yet, but hopefully will. |
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her reflection is staring back, now she knows she's really messed up, she's talking to herself, asking questions she can't answer, Why can't she just be normal? or outgoing? or even pretty? She stares into her eyes, she can see the pain, hiding within her soul, she can see the hurt, and betrayal, of one guy, who took everything she had to give. Why did he do it? Could he not hear her scream? Why didn't she fight harder? Make him stop? But deep down she knows, she couldn't have stopped him, but she can't hold on to that, she can't see it in her eyes. She feels weak, and used. Why didn't she tell anyone? Why did she hide the bruises? People would have helped, her family and friends, her teachers or coworkers, the pastor would have done something. But she kept her mouth shut, and stuck it out. Why? Was she scared they wouldn't care? She sees her face, the person people see, the front that she keeps up. Why can't she be honest? Why can't she show her pain? Or accept the comfort offered to her? She stares at the mirror, willing it to answer, but it doesn't, it's silent, like everything else in her life, she's all alone, left to deal with it on her own, left standing in front of the mirror, asking herself why. She stares at her reflection, wishing she knew, but her eyes are empty, no answers there. She can see the pain, and torment, and wishes she were dead. Why can't she die? Why can't this pain end at her hand? Only this time it's different, she can see the answer, in the eyes of her friends, and her pastors. She sees that they care, But why? What do they see that she can't? When will she know? She stares at the mirror, but her reflection is different, it's smiling, the kind of smile you have when you know something that the other person doesn't. Why won't it tell her? She stands there, with one spark of hope, that someday her answers will come, but she has to leave the mirror and go out into the real world, because her reflection, doesn't have all the answers, not yet, but soon. ~10/16/03 |
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