Mirror, mirror, off the wall

[skonen_blades]

I wrote this poem after seeing a vanity mirror desk left in the alley with nothing left in it's frame.

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Mirror, mirror, off the wall
Now you do not see at all
When the queen asked truth of you
You answered with a voice TOO true
Now, abandoned on a ledge
Your empty frame holds but a hedge
Without your face, it's painful how
People see right through you now
Looking glass, you cannot see
Therein lies the irony
Seven years bad luck belongs
To that queen and all her wrongs
Not that that is comforting
To your empty, silent ring
Abandoned in the open air
The truth you show now: nothing's fair.



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