You cannot digest what speaks the mirror,
and feverishly search to mend the damage.
You blame it for it reflects your errors,
and portrays not your new made-up image.
So you snap, click and edit your photo-
colours to present a different picture.
Camouflaged with layers from head to toe,
hiding the soul but flashing the texture.
You caption this frame to further enhance,
peppered with a sweet voice to go along.
In hope to upraise the societal stance
but unaware where you truly belong.
But soon this drama and dice go backstage-
you call the mirror for a pure image.
Pretence has a short life ; truth is eternal. The mirror can be brutally honest. An exploratory poem , exploring possible new modes of being.
Thank you, Amita.
Honest reflection upon how we like to twist the truth staring at ourselves.
Thank you for your perception, Madhumathy. Well said!
What a hard hitting poem .It reminded me of poem “Mirror” by Sylvia Plath.Loved reading it
Thank you, Nalini. Glad you liked it.
A beautiful,reflective poem.Truth,ultimately,cannot be photoshopped.
Thank you, Vijay sir. Appreciate.