Identity Crisis

Who is this I'm staring at?
With tear-filled eyes
And quivering lips
I've never seen such longing
Buried in such heavy eyes
But it's the melancholy expression
That swallows me whole
Such hatred for life
And contempt for fate
Who good sir are you?
I ask as if there was a doubt
A doubt to your identity
Such eyes could only come
From the glance of a mirror
Such a heavy expression
Only from the arches in my own face

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.