The Mirror

I'm Daniel at war
Facing the tallest of the Giants
My rocks won't reach
My voice muffled in the echoes of silence


I would climb and strike
but
heights are my fear
So I face
My darkness
My enemy
My setbacks
My fear


I stand firm & wide
swirling the sling while I stand at bay
I open my eyes
I see peaces crumble
I hear him shatter
I hear him scream as his arm has been tattered


I look down to my hand in search for my triumphant sling
For weapon of choice had accomplished its dream
I move my head
I turn my eyes
I looked down at the thing that was supposed to be seen
Only to see that my arm wasn't seen
And the very thing that shattered was the man in the mirror
Ironically I guess, MJ says the message couldn't get any clearer


At that moment I realized how mirrors actually shatter
But
I also learned exactly how rainbows actually gather


A prism of glass, a droplet of water, a piece of broken glass
All it takes is a reflection of light and things take the shape of a mirror
A single color, a simple beam of light, turns itself into a wide range of color
but now we have a tattered mirror that reflects Rays of light
Instead of an arch that antithesis’s night


But why be satisfied with still being broken
Just because something's beautiful doesn't mean it’s still open


So yes the open broken glass glistens with color
But what if there was another possibility
One where the mirror was fuller
One where the rainbow wasn't divided and torn
But a rainbow where a single beam was drawn
 


It stands tall
Not a foot too high

For Factories process perfection

Applying it to we instead of just dotting the i


Reflecting and detecting what stands in its sight
It knows how rainbows came to be
It knows what is right
However, most importantly of all
It doesn't know itself
It knows not of itself at all


A mirror itself, the glass, the frame
Is composed of a million tiny little things
More specifically the glass
The stuff that makes it gives it the look
Is composed of our vacation’s door
The beach itself, including the shore


There are 7 quintillion, five hundred quadrillion grains of sand on this earth
And out of all those beaches                                                          

A select few became you

But now the fire is heated, you are compressed, and suddenly, your glass is no longer a mess
So out of those 7 quintillion, you are just a dot, but now you have two ways of looking at this

I guess you preferred the top

I am unique
No one is me  

Who cares what mirror you buy, who cares what you see

For I have my own beach, I have my own shore

So who cares about your beach, why care about yours 

I have a beach house, so why worry about shores  

And yes i have my own, but yours seemed grander  

Until i looked at mine and realized yours was slander                                               

I guess my Mirror was stronger than me, or maybe my mirror allowed me to be

So I thank my beach, my shore, my rainbow...thanks to you guys 

I've finally came to see

That my grain of sand created a mirror...and that mirror is me

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Kjhump96

.

Jacob Garrett

THAT WAS REALLY BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!

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