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*cracks in the mirror*

The cobweb strands that dangle from my fingers,
Brush gingerly against the troubled stone,
The masterpiece that now just hangs in ribbons,
Just shards of pictures, forgotten, on their own.

The broken glass stands undignified before me.
With patterns that would do a labyrinth proud,
As i look now into my changed reflection,
My face mis-shaped, with what the mirror bestowed.

I follow crevices deep with damaged fingers,
My figure before me changed, forgotten, lost,
My anger's deep; inside me rages madness,
My shattered future to me the only cost.

Tears run down the picture, trace the cracks,
That now break up my young and solemn face,
My heart has sunk into the very depths of me,
And now will leave me driven to disgrace.

Anger surges up and through my features,
As i reach up and tear it from the wall,
My future and my picture now uncertain,
And the mirror cracked before me shows my fall

Learn more about this author, Rachel Newland.
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