Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Even my fantasies are rather lame...
There are monsters,
Dwelling in the mirror.
Fanged beasts that claw
And snarl at whoever
Is looking back at them.
Though I turn the mirrors away,
I can still hear their taunts,
Their jeers and their growls
Stinging me every night.
To see such beasts gleaning rage,
It could break the hardest heart.
I lay back upon the bed,
Eyes glaring at the ceiling,
Begging and blaming god for the
Injustices I suffer.
All I ever wanted was a chance to shine,
My only fantasy was not to be
The creature of disaster
Staring back at me from the mirror;
My only fantasy was to be beautiful.
1-25-11
Dwelling in the mirror.
Fanged beasts that claw
And snarl at whoever
Is looking back at them.
Though I turn the mirrors away,
I can still hear their taunts,
Their jeers and their growls
Stinging me every night.
To see such beasts gleaning rage,
It could break the hardest heart.
I lay back upon the bed,
Eyes glaring at the ceiling,
Begging and blaming god for the
Injustices I suffer.
All I ever wanted was a chance to shine,
My only fantasy was not to be
The creature of disaster
Staring back at me from the mirror;
My only fantasy was to be beautiful.
1-25-11
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Even my fantasies are rather lame...
Even my fantasies are rather lame...
