Saturday

A few broken mirrors

I have a few broken mirrors,
at the bottom of my pocket.
Pieces of glass,
that keep obstructing my past.
This nerve leads to it,
my past, like a wave frozen.

Tired feet, want to rest.
The stump over the cliff,
facing the sunset.
I lie down,
with a few broken mirrors,
at the bottom of my pocket.

2 comments:

Chit said...

cool

Sagar said...

Chit~Thanks :)

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