Wolfe-Letour
September 23, 2016
The Shattered Image of Me
I look in the mirror and see a shattered and disgraced figure,
torn to pieces by what the world.
As I look closer I notice each fragment is different,
only to resemble my past and shattered figure.
Each one constantly shifting as though blown by the wind,
taking on a complete and different persona.
AS I try to mend the image I feel each fragment cut deeper,
deep into my soul.
As I begin to bleed I begin to scream, but who is there to hear me?
The figure is useless as I see it begin to laugh,
it sends shivers down the spine.
I cover my ears to keep the noises out only to reveal that I gave up without a doubt.
The wool was pulled over my eyes as I was trying to hide the shattered image.
But to no avail shall it be, for everyone can see the monster within me:
The Shattered Image that has made me.