Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Iva Hotko

 Image by the author     


Mirror, mirror on the wall,
is it late for me to know,
who am I, and where’s my voice?


A mosaic put together from the remains of alien emotions and thoughts,
is any of that mine in this vortex of truths and lies?
Do we ever get to know the truth about it all?

Am I — 
All the words I read, and all the songs I sang — 
The Paramount of emotion and thought,
Sci-fi for all that wanted more — 
All the unspoken lessons that my teacher never taught,
The plus and minus of every doubt — 
Chicory to coffee, water to scotch,
Darkness to light, rain to sun — 
or is it other way around?

Unique patterns of my hue — a gift of heritage in blood and soul.
Lessons of old, prejudice and gold, glitter and stars, mud and intuition on how to survive

The reason offered no answers to ease the struggle, and heart was always too wild to battle.
What do you do when all the paths you take, turn into an dead end?

There’s a path no one told me about, the one that leads to the source — my inner voice

It’s hard, for there is no map or SatNav to guide one to that place.
The roads are often hard, and muddy, full of weeds, trees, and caves.
The beauty and ugliness all in one notorious fall — 
demons and angels together in one glorious choir.
The secrets revealed will hold power for one’s wings to grow. 
But to live with the disappointment that revelation brings, 
one will have to bear on one’s own.


Mirror, mirror on the wall
where’s the path to my inner voice?


  • Author: Iva Hotko (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 28th, 2023 13:54
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 29
  • User favorite of this poem: Doggerel Dave.


  • Basumori

    thank you for this amazing poem. It was written amazingly and I truly enjoyed reading it.

    • Iva Hotko

      I'm so glad you liked it :-)))
      Thank you!

    • Archdoom

      I find that all the untought lessons are the ones we truly must learn in order to live and not just exist to let life pass us by.
      More often than not, the more alien our inner voice sounds, the more sincere it is.
      And every struggle we go through makes every victory that much more satisfying.
      I know it's nothing close to romanticising life's struggles, but those struggles do seem more romantic on this page, compared to how 'normal' people would picture them.

      • Iva Hotko

        Yes, yes, and yes 😊
        Thank you!

      • Doggerel Dave

        Elusive is my inner voice – occasionally I think I’ve cut through, found a path out of the ‘weeds, trees, and caves’. To what? You term it a dead end, but are there any that are not? How do I know that the most recent revelation isn’t as dead as all the others?
        As usual, I’ve spent more time with your poem than most of the rest put together. IF it’s possible to have a GOOD tension headache, then I’ve got one…… 🥲

        • Iva Hotko

          Oh, Dave I'm really sorry that my poetry gives you headache.
          Good thing that I don't post too often 😁🤗🤍
          I consider your headache a compliment, one of the nicest ones
          I have been given. Thank you 😊 🥰

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