Looking glass why do you not display my years, moisture does not cover my eyes, and the feeling of the heart does not beat within me,

My cheeks do not feel the flow of the emotions that cover me, and again I am left to wonder life’s thought’s of emotions,

I cry alone, hold me alone, and I weep again,

I see flash backs of this repeating themselves in my mind, as the thought of every contemplates me,

Tears why do you follow me through my life, as I walk in my shadows, and the images I see are of one not two,

I exist within me, and within in me I do not see the story of us, as again tears blanket my truth, of a deserts mirage,

I cast me as lover, and self as this is to be or not to be, I question’s the romancer in what a wall of illusion, as my tears do not moisture my eyes,

In the days of want I see nothing,

In the days of need, I walk to the statue of my sculpture, that captures my likeness in it’s on image, and I cry, dry sweet tears, that cover my reality of this, a word of asking, and a voice of screams, that belong to this, me,

Life laughs at me, as does the stones that embed themselves around my feet,

I am a book of words, a sentence that starts this, a conversation, of whets,


And a forgotten truth, my river that’s made up of my past and the future that writes it’s self

Whisper me I cry, whisper me I say, indulge this I ask,

As my eye’s water with tears,
As they flow down my cheek’s, as emotions invade my mind body and soul,

My tears as they are so gentle wiped away, I exist,

My tears,