I see under myself,
In the acrylic mirror.
Expressionless portrait
Of sorrow and wonderment
...
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Great poem and very haunting pieces. Sometimes I start at the image in the mirror and wonder who this is. The truth is hard to define each of our truths maybe falsehoods to others, Loved the lines ''Withering traditions Confessions tell Of being strangers to ourselves'' 10/10 BB : O)
Alfredo, this a very haunting piece of self analyzing. I liked it. The last line 'Of being strangers to ourselves.' really summed up this whole poem. Brilliant. Top marks and thanks for sharing it my friend. David
you've captured that strange alliance and intimate dialogue we often have with ourselves, especially as we engage in expression. strong work, Alfredo. -Tailor
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Alfredo. Read my poem, Love and. Thanks