The past peers at me <br />Through the brittle glass of every window <br />Strange sensations curl themselves <br />Up against my insides <br />I recognize your accusing face <br />The hurt, the bitterness <br />And I feel the old pain <br />That reminds me <br />Of the heart that I thought I had long stoned <br />… <br />Suddenly every window becomes a mirror <br />Which reflects you back to me <br />Your love <br />Your faith <br />Your loyalty <br />Your sacrifices <br />Your virtues <br />….. <br />I turn away from this vista <br />This sad parade of my life <br />And pass a real mirror <br />Which yells, ' infidel! ' <br />And I arrest my step <br />Cant seem to run away from it <br />Though i've had enough time to try <br />I see me in all my splendid <br />Ugliness <br />All my splendid <br />Deceit <br />All my splendid <br />Deviltry <br />And I know you couldn’t have saved me <br />Even though you did try <br /> <br />……………………. <br />I am of those lost souls <br />Who lose home <br />even though <br />They see within reach <br />The white picket fence <br />And the pretty red wooden door.<br /><br />wardha jawdat<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lost-souls-9/
