Reflections

By Scarrzz



 

Between two formless realities I watch the worlds pass by

Never changing, but always in the midst of life,

Of which I have none.

 

There was once a young man who stood before me often.

At night, when the door was closed, we would play a game.

On the outside I would show him a picture of his masculinity

Naked, sometimes perverse,

And always with a hungry, lustful look in his eyes.

 

But on the inside he would show me a beautiful naked lady wrapped around him,

While they explored all the different ways that they could touch.

He always seemed to enjoy this game

Because he would smile when it was over.

 

Then later in the faint moonlight, I would see him clutching his pillow tightly

With a pained and lonely expression on his face.

 

One day he flatly asked me, “Why am I not good enough?”

But I flatly had no answer.

 

 

None other knows him as I do, for I know him as he knows himself.

While they look through their perceptions,

I stare at my own reflections

And I wonder if this makes us both the same.




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Copyright 2010 Scarrzz
Published on Wednesday, July 14, 2010.     Filed under: "Reflective" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "Reflections"

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  • Scarrzz On Friday, January 11, 2013, Scarrzz (238)By person wrote:

    This piece was inspired by one of my earliest memories of the deep appreciation of poetry. Sylvia Plath's "Mirror" I love both her confessional style and use of personification. This was the first poem I remember that reached inside and changed the way I look at the world. Scholar

  • A former member wrote: I'm loving the reflection! :) Scholar


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