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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,
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.


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
Anonymous said...

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


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

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