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My playground, my mirror, my vision
My gift, my offering , my contribution
My doubts, my regrets, my never-absent fears
My frowns, my laughter, my ever-flowing tears
My symetry, my perfection, in well-constructed sentences
My anger, my bitterness, in well described insults
My sighs, my sadness, in well-designed humor
My hope, my ideas, in a black and white rainbow
If I have ever been beautiful, I painted a picture
If I have ever been special, I daydreamt in words
If I have ever loved, I proclaimed in rhyme
And if I have ever deserved , I flattered myself on paper
My choice, my opinion, the only vote I will ever cast
The other side of the mirror, my seceret and mine alone
My blurred focus, equal in importnace only to my shadow
My nonsense, my senseless graffitti, my precious dust
It is a story only my voice can pronounce
A beginning and destination, only I can announce
It is my pride, my virtue, my blinding vanity
My life ,my song, my words in rhyming clarity
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How we observe and how we reflect.
The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.
The facades of a perfect home.
This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.