I break mirrors
I assume
When they don't show me
Or the me that I know
Staring back is never
The petite
"sensitive"
Boy?
Laughed off the playground
For enjoying embroidery
Nor the pale
Waifish child
With haunted eyes
It is not the girl that I see
Prematurely aged
But a stranger
Six foot six
Broad of shoulder
Strong and confident I think
Clean jawed
Clear eyed
As yet unbowed and defiant.
The eyes they say
Are the windows on the soul
And what then does it mean
When mine
Flit
From green
To gray
To blue and back
Take on the color of their surroundings
And the qualities of the light?
I hope I don't get seven more years each morning
Eighteen of bad luck has been quite enough.







We’re quite a busy group.
--
#theWrittenRevolution
If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Please keep writing!
It's always good to hear that someone has taken something away from my work, and I assure you I will continue to write so long as I can.
--
Illusion is the first of all pleasures - Oscar Wilde
If it's not too much trouble, do you think you could spare a glance every so often and maybe toss out a critique?
--
Illusion is the first of all pleasures - Oscar Wilde
I'll get out and take a look at your work when I have more time to spend on line.
--
"We're too good to ever die."
--
Beneath the earth our fates await us -- and just think, we shan't need to go o'far to know what lay within our graves!
--
King Bob: I was a baby when I was born. I remember it all quite well. When the doctor pulled me out, I did not cry. I issued commands. 'Bring me some jerky,' I told them.