Poets Pen: Do not stare.

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Within the ghostly mirror,

there lives a face that makes me shiver.

It visits me when I stare

or walk by with little compassion or sense of care.

I do not look at it often

for I know the truth that lies at its bottom,

A truth I dare not speak

because of honesty, my skin would reek.

When I need to look, I do it fast

quick and careful, away from the lurking truth at heart.

Within this ghostly mirror of mine

I dare not stare too long

because the face that greets me back

is not one I know

but the result of the seeds that I have sown.

It is mine in form, that much is true

but where there were once eyes

darkness now spreads through

and from the icy lips so blue

darts poison which, ever misses few.

To this day I dare not say

who it is that made my face that way.

It can’t be me for I am good

the best, the kindest in the hood.

© JR Robberts 2017

 

 

 

 

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