You're grandmother was my lover
She stared at her beautiful self for hours.
She cleaned my glass
She always kept me from breaking.
You see, when your mother was little
she stared at her beautiful self for hours.
She left finger prints on my glass
and occasionally she almost broke me
When you were little you smiled at me
you would sneak into your parents room for me
you would stare at me for me
and you would have never let me brake.
But you've broken me
Up here in this attic with my glass smashed
she found me
you daughter tells you I am broken
You don't seem to see who I am
Or more of who I was
I was like your best friend
now you just bring me to the dump.
Author notes
So that was my life as a mirror.
Written January 4th, 2006
A contest entry
- Imagine you were something else by .
300 points, ended January 12, 2006, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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Comments
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Excellent
aww how sad..poor you as a mirror. I can see how if a mirror were a sentinent thing how it would come to love those who would most often look into it^_^ I really like this. -
Wow. That was very interesting to read. At first I had no idea what you were trying to say you were. But then I read your authors note. Then I read the poem over again. And I saw it! Yay! Anyways, this is a really nice write. Odd and unique. Very well written! I love how you have the generations pass by. That was a nice touch. Great work and keep writing! Thank you for sharing this peice with all of us on AP and goodluck in the contest!
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interesting, nicely written, but i never woulda thought of the life as a mirror, lol. been a while, im checking up on my buddy list, how you been?
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