Dear Reflection,

Dear Reflection,

I am the lone sparrow that glides through the dead forest, 

I am mute but yet I still speak.

 A mockingbird that's tune falls on deaf ears.

My misguided youth makes me think I can bring back what once was.

As I bob and weave through the scorched trees I see myself as a great beauty.

I land with the self-satisfaction of my deeds.

Perched malevolently above as I did before .

I cannot see that in my efforts to be what I coveted most, 

I am the crow.

Now that you know will you go?

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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