Mirrored My Mind

They ask why:

Roses are red,

And violets are blue,

Whether guilt is dead,

And love can be true.

But are they?

They explore realms:

The kingdom by the sea,

To the place the caged bird sings,

From the wrathful poison tree,

To the dreams the daffodil bring.

But can they find themselves?

Then they wonder:

Where the origin of the dreams,

And the mirrored nightmares reign,

Daring the youthful hopes they seem,

And yet only crushed ideas remain.

But do they believe?

But all I think is simple:

How can words flow so,

To the heart and back,

The brain and soul,

United at last.

But am I the one who is actually lost?.

No, I'm not.

Or am I?

Through the windows of poetry I see,

But in the end, am I still me?