Reflection

Mary and her reflection. 15th of March, 2013

Mirror, mirror

 on the wall

  looking over me as I read about

   Humpty Dumpty and his great fall

    down a flight of stairs.

I wrote that myself, see,

 because my reflection likes those kinds of stories,

  and she watches me from where the unfortunate

   fellow's inspiration cracked at my feet,

    and there, her eyes are red.

Mirror, mirror

 in the hall

  where Mommy dearest called

   for her child shepherd, Mary,

    and I remember her screaming, but my

     reflection told her "sorry"

      despite my being there.

A dark hole in existence lies where red had once been.

Mirror, mirror

 there's a doll

   in my room and her head always lolls

    off to one side when no one is looking

      but kindly, I always prop her up again

       and I always smile at her glass face

        and she always smiles back.