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Poems On / About MIRROR  7/22/2014 10:25:16 AM
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If my friend were a mirror

Tis a peculiar thing, having a friend,

Not knowing how it happens or how it starts,

If my friend where a mirror, could I apprehend,

Better all the ways in which it works?

Would I care for my mirror more or less?

Would I try to impress,

The mirror I want to spend all my time,

Or would I become vain,

And break what is not so easily fixed?

I love my mirror, betwixt

The bad days, and I embrace the good,

For If my friend where a mirror, would find I,

A most plain life, as a mirror would not tell any lie,

How, lucky am I to have a friend, who with whom, I do not have to try.
Hannah Rose Bicknell

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Looking in the mirror i see my selves' reflection,
but looking in the mirror does not show my perception.
Beautiful blue eyes obtained at baby birth.
And with these blue eyes i see my teenage face.
Tan toned body, a walking Junior hottie.
Looks is metely based off compliment received what people tell you is what you believe.
Mirrors unlike people cannot see within.
Mirrors can't see arrogance, conceited, dishonest, sin.
Mirrors only see blonde hair, blue eyes, ‘hottest'.
So unless i want to marry a mirror i better start working,
on what John 3: 16 taught us.
Alexander Brown

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There's a girl in the mirror!

There's a girl in the mirror
Staring back at me
I don't even know who she is
But by heck! She's ugly

There's a girl in the mirror
Standing very still
She's pale and she looks afraid
I think she might be ill

There's a girl in the mirror
She'd never win a prize
She looks very depressed
You can tell it by her eyes

There's a girl in the mirror
Looks like she needs a friend
I don't have many myself
But I guesse my self I can lend

To the girl in the mirror
I step towards to comfort her
I see her coming closer
But now she's becoming a bit of a blur

Now the girl in the mirror
Has left me on my own
Here I stand in a dark, cold room
Feeling very alone
Becky Ginn

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Smoke & Mirror's

Smoke & Mirrors

Smoke, conceals his moves
His secret’s you approve
Mirrors produce the ultimate illusion
Is it real, or a mental delusion

His craft handed down threw out the years
This craft of his, of Smoke & Mirrors

He shows his hands, as he raises his sleeve
By the end of the night, you to will believe
He moves his hands; with the music he’s in sync
You watch intently, trying hard not to blink

From father too son, a labor of blood and tears
This craft of his, of Smoke & Mirrors

He’ll show you exactly, what he wants you to think
Amazed and in awe, your mind takes another drink
His hands are quick, yet he never stands still
It’s the love of his craft, it’s you he thrills

A master trickster, he learns his trade well
This craft of his, of Smoke & Mirrors

He’ll take your breath, with a simple flower
Then saw you in half, showing his ultimate power
He’ll never actually reveal a single secret to you
But he’ll take your breath as well, before he’s threw

His craft masterfully perfected, excepted by his peers
This craft of his, of Smoke & Mirrors

Poison 9901

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Poems On / About MIRROR