I look into the mirror filled with shattered glass
I look into my broken face and see my shattered past.
I look into my tear glazed eyes and see a twisted smile
I look into my heart and mind and believe I'll stay awhile.
I look outside myself and see reality
I look outside myself scared I'll always be.
So for now I'll stay curled up inside, Remember my broken life, remember that I died.
I look into my broken face and see my shattered past.
I look into my tear glazed eyes and see a twisted smile
I look into my heart and mind and believe I'll stay awhile.
I look outside myself and see reality
I look outside myself scared I'll always be.
So for now I'll stay curled up inside, Remember my broken life, remember that I died.
Author notes
I am really tired right now, tired of life, tired of love.
Becaues of this I am physically exausted.
So please dont take anything I do thats bad to heart, I am way better than what it may seem if you think this is bad.
I hope that came out in some form of english.
adeui
--Lucian Adonis
A contest entry
- Seven Lines by Lj-.
300 points, ended May 27, 2007, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Uhh oh!! This is amazing!!! You are proballly getting reallly tired of me saying all this again and again about how good all of it is!! But I can't say much more!! I just love all of it!! And I can't describe it in anyway why I love it all so much!! You are just a great writer and I can't say much more!
-
Very emotional.
Thank you for entering,
Best of luck!
-
Woaw...
Wow, it made me feel something as I was reading it actually. Wow.....Good work dude..
-
Sad
It is sad that you are extremely tire dof life and how rough it has been but you really penned yourself beautifully through out this poem. I really felt that e-motional connection and the built up tiredness through out this poem. I really can relate on a weird sense of level headedness what you might be feeling. any ways very well done and keep up the goood work and best of luck in the contst



