Broken Image

This is about a person who hates what they see on the other side of the mirror.

I stare at the face
Peering back at me
From some far away land
On the other side of the mirror.
I hate that face
Always have,
Always will.
I lift up my hand
As if to shatter
My reflection.
After a few seconds
I strike out
With all my might
And that face
Shatters into a million pieces.
The pieces of that broken image
Fall around me.
Crying, asking for another chance,
Words left unheeded.
I look at the floor
And see a million
Jagged, red, glittering pieces,
But that face is gone.


*If you read this please rate it. Comments are appreciated. Update: This poem is going to be published! The book comes out next year. I can't remember the title of it. My poem will be one among many, but I'm still happy.*