Blood drips down the mirror
Not clear the mirror, hidden pain
Red streaks that can't be seen
By anyone but the bleeding
Not clear the mirror, hidden pain
Not to be seen before death
By anyone but the bleeding
What is a window for one is a mirror to another.
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Author:
NinjaGirl (
Offline) - Published: September 3rd, 2025 12:22
- Comment from author about the poem: Pantoum - my first one.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 40
- Users favorite of this poem: RSM0812, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments5
Very nicely done and with deep meaning as well. Loved it
Thanks!
You are most welcome
Nice write Ninja
Thank you so much!
You are one of the best poets on the sight Ninjagirl. This another beautiful write. Keep it going.
Thank you so much for being so supportive and reading my poetry!
Beautifully done, 🥷. The repetition works like an echo of pain...circling back, unavoidable, completely raw. A fave. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you! I'm not sure how I feel about the form, but I'm experimenting a bit around. Here a little and there a little
You are most welcome! Exactly...and in that...you will create magic, my friend! Nothing wrong with experimentation, in my book!
This is a great poem, I feel like discussing and lamenting every line, Nice one
Thank you so much!
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