Insecurities are caught better in front of the mirror.
Does the camera only capture sweet memories?
Flaws aren't bitter, they're sour.
Being labeled a self-pitying fool, is that why hate is a strong word?
Secrets aren't scandalous but if they're revealed, they might be.
Do secrets spill or do people whisper?
Escapism is a convenience only if you're alone.
How do you find solace in crowds?
My eyelids shut forcefully by a nightmare disguised as a dream.
When we close our eyes, do we dream or do the dreams wake us?
A daydream seeks things, a nightmare gives them to you.
Am I in heaven if I dream about death?
Glory and evil go hand in hand.
Does that mean the devil is my saviour?
The devil might be an angel going on a rampage.
Can ignorance be an excuse for chaos?
Danger might be an adrenaline rush on the curb of death.
Does life hold meaning if we fear death?
We live to die so our ashes are free of prejudice.
Must we resemble one another to be treated as equals?
I challenge my own boundaries and demolish those walls of sanity.
When did life and death start to look the same?
Living is a lie if we aren't dying at the same time.
Are life and death parallel?
Lies always shine brighter than the truth.
Does the truth catch fire or the liar?
White lies are the same as a twisted truth.
Are angels really innocent if all they do is sugarcoat the obvious?
We're born angels but we die devilishly.
As we grow older, do humans become incapable of purity?
Humans and devils and angels are all synonymous.
Are we people or an amalgamation of everything good and evil?
The green exit light starts blinking red.
A never-ending maze is always a straight path.
I run through the blaring sirens until I'm dead.
A light comes through the pitch darkness;
It's just thunder raining on my parade.
All beauty in this world lacks kindness
For the blind may love, yet the love may blind.
Cruel place, isn't it?
Meanwhile, I haven't even stared past the mirror.
-
Author:
Bliss (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 9th, 2023 08:53
- Comment from author about the poem: Wrote all kinds of mind-boggling questions for this one. Almost had a existential crisis by the end of itđđ Meaning of the poemđđ We all get bugged by our insecurities when we stare at ourselves in the mirror. Secrets turn into juicy gossip in a crowd. Nightmares are like achieveable daydreams. It's easy to daydream about something from afar but proximity of that thing in nightmares makes the heart grow anxious. Sometimes, devils surprise you with a little glory. Maybe, they're angels in disguise? Death makes us all equal, yet life isn't fair. It makes no sense because life and death happen simultaneously. Lies? Yeah, they shine, but white lies? Not so much. People are a dichotomy of good and evil, lost in identity. That maze that's rumoured to be endless? The exit light goes red, but it's just a straight path, and then thunder rains on your parade when you realize you're wrong. Beauty? No guarantee of kindness. Love? Blind people can love, love can blind people too. The mirror shows us a cruel world. It starts off and ends with the mirror. The beginning and end are quite literally reflections of each other in this poem. All the questions that I keep asking myself aren't necessarily related. One thing leads to another and somehow, I start doubting everything around me. There are more questions being asked than answers being told. I feel like this poem could be thought-provoking in the way that it questions literally everything in existence. Btw sorry guys, I didnât get to post for over a week. I had been busy with a load of assignmentsđHope you guys enjoy the poem and share it with your friends and loved ones
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments3
Mirror sincerely lying ...
Oh my god đ. This poem is a long one
I liked it but Iâll offer a one view that may be easily set aside. I just think itâs too long there was a heightened tension achieved about thirty lines before the end and it was one choice to close. It stayed tight but maybe it didnât get stronger which I believe is often a desired style. You can write. Reminds of a miles Davis , John Coltrane talk when miles asked Trane why his solos were so long with Trane saying he just donât know how to quit. Miles, cantankerously said, âyou just pull the fucking horn away from your lipsâ! Comparing to Coltrane is highest prop I got.
I understand your point about the length of the poem. Poetry is indeed about choices, and in this case, I aimed to maintain a certain level of tension and exploration throughout. Thanks for taking the time to read and share your insightsâ¤ď¸
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