The heart is kept in a mirror

My

heart

is

kept

in

a

mirror.


The

pain

is

less.

The

comfort

is

not

there.


I

can

be

at

thousand

places,

I

can

go

thousand

miles.

The

image

stands

strongest

in

the

middle

of

its

eye.


The

mirror

has

eyes.

It

has

a

voice.

That

is

of

my

soul.


Whenever

my

heart

longs

for

something,

my

heart

comes

crashing

down

by

its

own

failure

to

adjust

to

the

truth.


The

mirror

stops

showing

me

the

answers

or

lines

drawn

on

the

sheet

of

my

forehead.

On

my

face.


I

take

everything

for

answers

now.

I'd

stopped

looking

for

answers

to

find

peace

and

joy.


The

image

stands

strongest

in

the

middle

of

its

eye.


A

young

mirror

came

to

live

in

my

house

a couple of

years

ago.


I

have

never

been

able

to

turn

back

time

since

then.


The

house

has

lost

its

place

or

position

for

dancing-hands

of

the

clock.


The

time-keeping

machine

shows

my

face

in

it

now.


You

ask

me

what

time

it

is

right

now.


I

have

nowhere

to

look

at

in

this

house.


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