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Folly


I know it to be folly,
but I won't stop.

When memories
don’t match mirrors,
science steps in
(as if on cue).

No need to act all saintly.
You’re wrestled with this demon,
chose a different track.
Feigned happiness.
Put on airs.
Said you’d never do as me,
but it’s an act,
a jealous thing,
mired in empty fears
and poverty.

Bones grow brittle,
faces crack,
and all that’s left
are tightly held beliefs
we once thought truth,
now shattered,
scattered
like pebbles on a riverbank
with time's river rushing by.

There are no angels here,
and vanity cannot save us.
But it will make the descent
a little prettier.

This was written for Sunday Scribblings 2 and The Sunday Whirl.

9 comments:

Alice Audrey said...

And here I thought vanity made it all uglier.

February 14, 2015 at 11:48 PM
Old Egg said...

It is so difficult to love yourself when you look in a mirror. Better though when others smile at you and don't see what you do which is the change.

February 15, 2015 at 12:42 AM
Jae Rose said...

I love the end lines...full circle to how folly looks and feels...softening over the cracking bones of reality

February 15, 2015 at 4:16 AM
Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik (PKP) said...

when "memories don't match mirrors" Love this line and the poem in its entirety -

February 15, 2015 at 7:33 AM
Magical Mystical Teacher said...

Sometimes making things just a little prettier is about all we can hope for...

Replay: To Double Your Whirling Pleasure

February 15, 2015 at 8:15 AM
Gail said...

I liked this. Well done.

February 15, 2015 at 9:20 AM
stone-weight said...

Mirrors are difficult things to deal with. Is that because we are afraid of the reality they might show us?

Elizabeth

February 15, 2015 at 9:45 AM
C.C. said...

This is poignant. That second to last stanza is so very relatable and I love the imagery of the pebbles in time's river.

February 15, 2015 at 2:43 PM
Gail said...

Thanks for the visit

February 16, 2015 at 8:36 AM