Saturday, 5 April 2014

Poem: God likes the mirror

Poem twelve

The mirror was born
Serving his customers
With the same perfect smile

God likes his ways
Handling all sorts of creation
The bad
The good
And the ugly

Sometimes they damage
His reflection by moods of the world
But not his smiling soul
I am not saying anything he says
It all goes through my ears
All unrecorded
I am just not decorated

Ready to serve is how he is made
No lunch
No coffee
No sleep
But sings more than a robot
What a reflection

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