Is it only through photographs that I will ever know I am me?
Or reflections from fictional people?
The stained, cracked mirror of the self,
Expresses itself in pulses of inchoate feeling.
Me, I am far from I.
Scattered.
Waiting to be put back together.
Filed under:
Creativity Corner Tagged:
Creativity,
poem,
poetry
Published on September 05, 2015 02:27