The Mirror

She looks at me, 

and understands. 

She knows the thickness, 

of the hourglass sands. 

She is there when I'm alone. 

She is there in my empty home. 

We would talk and play and reminisce. 

As the house would silently hiss. 

Sometimes we would agree or fight. 

She would care for me in my times of plight. 

We would tell each other stories, 

with pictures in our heads. 

We would think of each other and say goodnight, 

as we slipped into our beds. 

We would wait to see each other. 

in the morning sun. 

Then sadly say goodbye, 

when the day is done.

A friend like her is what I want, 

and what I wish to have.

She is the mirror in my closet, 

and that's what makes me sad.

Author's Note

Please tell me your thoughts on my poem.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

I have no words....my voice is in my awe!! Well done!

[Leo]

Wonderful storytelling/narrative style embedded in a poem..very smooth and articulate piece of work as if effortless as it resonated with me from start to finish..fabulous..my only modest advice is that the very end "and that's what makes me sad" sort of weakened your magnificent poem as it didn't rhyme or fit..maybe "She is the mirror in my closet,
and that's what makes me composite" because sad was far from rhyming with closet..
Other than that it was nothing short than an absolute joy to read!!