Standing here in front of you, so harshly I judge. I can simply reach out and give you a smudge. I can run the water, steam you away, put lots of things in your way. You will still come find me after today. So bold and athletic you appear to be, while I'm seeing me and your seeing me. For what is it worth? A reflection, my rejected self, am I visually poor & have no wealth? So I reach out, give you a smudge, how dare you judge what you think you see. Am I really yelling at me?
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Author:
lvnpoetry1967 (
Offline) - Published: May 13th, 2016 10:14
- Comment from author about the poem: what does it mean to you?
- Category: Unclassified
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