The Other Side of the Mirror

Shards of glass

shatter to the ground.

Groping for the hope

that shards can be mended.

But the glue isn't strong enough,

the shards are too sharp to touch.

The image is broken,

the empty space remains.

Colors float to the ground,

but they just don't make sense

anymore.

Reviews

[Anuradha Verma]

Whoa. The words used are simple but so expressive! I'd quote the entire poem for my favorite lines, but I'll settle with these:
"Colors float to the ground,
but they just don't make sense

anymore."
*shudders* It's the sort of poetry I hope to be able to write one day.

[Treble]

Thank you! You're very kind! I'm so glad you liked it so much!

[Briana O'Connor]

I like the way you leave this expression open for speculation and imagination. The description painted an emotional and dark journey that could go just about anywhere. I think this could be kind of piece that tells a different story depending on the time a reader views it. I bet if I were to come back and read it in a different mood I could find a new path to travel. I would recommend either expanding this piece to add more depth or reconsider the abrupt ending. The last two lines seem to close too quickly. Thank you for sharing. I enjoyed the read.

[Treble]

Thank you so much for the review! Is this better? Thank you!

[Briana O'Connor]

perfect!!!!!

[Treble]

Yay, thank you so much! Thank you so so so so much!

[Briana O'Connor]

my pleasure