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'A Stereotypical Reflection'

November 20, 2007|By E. L. SYVERSON

I threw a bottle into the mirror,
sick of looking at myself.
Watching the past fade.
Waiting for time to pass me by.
Watching my future come too fast.
Waiting for it all to end.
Fade to black.
And I go flying,
my self in pieces,
all over the bathroom.
It's strange how time won't pass,
but only if I want it to.
And the future slips
through my fingers as I wait.
Better here
than somewhere else.
I'm just too tired
to pick up the pieces myself.
I'll just sit and wait for you.
Pick up my shards.
Sweep me off the floor


instead of off my feet.
I'm still shattered on the tiles
and waiting.

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