Mimicking My Gimmicks.

"I found you."

Mimicking my gimmicks, a fake correspondence of trickery you say.

But you see, a mirror that has cracks can't eject a perfect image.

You are yourself, and accepted you can’t help to not feel.

What is  meant to be kept absolutely real?

 

So before that mask, and that foggy cracked mirror; I’ll let you know that time is inferior.

Inferior to the time I'll wait, and the dreams I have in my wake.

Onto homestead, a far ways from here; these memories, I'll always hold dear.

Red twine: grasping, pulling, and contracting.

 

Your exterior is faded, a mime for fun jokes. 

Have you ever had a moment to feel that darkness is just a shadow, and all you have to do is turn around? 

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

Lovely and haunting poem. Nicely done.