Refletions

12 Comments

Tags:
  • Emotional
  • ,
  • Life

    Refletions

    Gazing at the reflection before me
    The person in the mirror I see.

    I wonder if this person is from the past
    Or the person I have become at last.

    A woman old beyond her years
    Eyes that have shed so many tears.

    The reflection in her beautiful eyes of green
    Of all the wonderful things they have seen.

    She has reaped the bounty of the earth
    Yet few are left at her hearth.

    Some have cast her aside
    With no thought to her pride

    Some in death have gone to sleep
    But in a better world they will again meet.

    Despite all the turmoil and pain
    There is a strength only she can sustain.

    There is still a glow of courage and spirit
    Though many have tried to bury it.

    With a quite dignity
    She maintains her integrity.

    Gone is the innocence of a child
    Gone are the days that she was wild.

    She has become all that she can be
    She is a reflection of me.

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    Alekar commented on Refletions

    09-07-2009

    using to much to shes and i seems a lil repeative and self indulging. to add more depth try using less shes for example gone are the days that she was wild became all that could be that is reflection of me.

    jesusfreake commented on Refletions

    08-24-2009

    I love poems like these with a great finish and a fantastic body of words...very strong, unique and full of memories both good and bad...and both just as equally make u the awesome poet u are today, so KUDOS and great job I am looking foward to more

    bluewolf commented on Refletions

    08-24-2009

    E.X.C.E.L.E.N.T.! You did a good job of impressing the metamorphsis of youth into a mature and beautiful adult.

    Dancer022597 commented on Refletions

    08-24-2009

    Aesome poem!!! This is the question and answer many ppl look for! Great way of showing it! Great job and keeep it up!

    pinkbutterfly commented on Refletions

    08-24-2009

    Wow....if more of us took the time to look at our own reflection we would not have the time to point out others imperfections....good read

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Rendida’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    A Vow 0
    A True Friend 5
    Refletions 12
    The Way It Wasn't Meant To Be 6
    The Pact With the Devil 17
    The Gift of You 15
    The Shadow Behind Me 12
    The Butterfly From Within 10