Who is that person in the picture?
Whose sad eyes in the mirror?
A broken demon with dead eyes,
A silent scream and deadly cries.
Who touches her nose?
Who’s wearing these clothes?
An old soul in a youthful corpse,
A cold breath with a warm beating heart.
Why doesn’t she recognise herself?
Why is she less human, more elf?
Like out of this world her mind wanders,
Above all others, flying with condors.
Why can’t she be like everyone else?
Living an average life where a candle melts?
Too much like everyone,
Too little like herself,
Too much of her own,
Too little like the world.
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Mona Steinke.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 19.12.2022.
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