Open Poetry #47 |
The Stranger In the Mirror |
Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA |
I looked into the mirror just this morning- To my surprise a stranger stared at me. And man as hard and scarred as any warrior I wondered to myself, "who could this be?" I tried a smile to see just what would happen The face which sneered at me made my blood cold No humor could I see in his expression Just bitterness and anger to behold. I tried to shrug it off in desperation The stranger made a mockery of me. I wondered how to flee his cynicism And how to make the stranger let me be. I asked myself, "what is the explanation?" Why do I see such dread and fearful sights I seemed to realize at last my fancy Had turned into a true and natural light- That what I saw was how that others saw me My smile had turned to pain some time before That all the dew of youth had long since left me And scars and marks of life were all I bore. I asked myself "Oh, what's to be my portion?" What price to bring cessation of my strife? And a silky whisper seemed to haunt the shadows The price which you must pay will be your life. I fled the sanctuary of my bedroom And hurried off to meet the coming day Yet I know the stranger's there to wait the evening And I fear what other word's I'll hear him say. |
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© Copyright 2011 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
always4real Junior Member
since 2011-01-22
Posts 31A yankee that lives in NC |
Great read, made me stop to realize how life is truly effecting me...is it making me into someone I can not recognize. Thank you! "Happiness is a state of your own mind!" |
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Lori Grosser Rhoden Member Patricius
since 2009-10-10
Posts 10202Fair to middlin' of nowhere |
this was especially good...very introspective. Lori |
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JerryPat Senior Member
since 2010-10-30
Posts 1991Louisiana/America |
I'll never forget the day I stared in that mirror and saw hell staring back. Happened in a filthy Mobil Gas restroom in Mobile, Alabama. Good self reflection writing. ~ Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die. ~ |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
John, the scars are medals of victory; the hardness doesn't fool any of us (well, I speak for myself, but I am sure that I can speak for lots of others too) - so don't let it fool you. You are who you are, and a liked and admirable poet - and anyone who loves horses is a friend of mine (unless he doesn't want to be - smiles) - and all of that is somebody to be very proud of (well, I don't know about the friend-of-mine part, but the rest anyway). The fact that you didn't win the championship/s in the rodeo arena isn't what you think at all - that you could have done it so long and loved it - is an infinitely greater medal than a single momentary championship. Only one person can win any championship - it is the number of people who enjoyed it, and far more so loved it, who are the real and lasting winners. Perhaps you were the only one who loved it as much as you did. I have only ridden 2 oxen in an ox-riding competition in 1966 (and I didn't "win" the recognised prize - but DID stay on both oxen longer than the male residents of the boarding house I was staying in during my first teaching post!) at a small agricultural show but I know and remember - and will continue to remember - the exhileration from all those years ago - and I rode horses from the age of 7, and got my first and only horse as an adult and had him for 20½ years - so I can begin to imagine your wonderful memories - and those memories are something that very few people have. Treasure them and read them in the mirror the next time you look and be proud of who you are - and know that you are most worthy of that pride - and make that stranger your friend. Owl |
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