I tried to come up with a bit of a background for this poem, but there really isn’t any.
I also tried to come up with something clever or interesting about why I don’t have a background for this poem, but I can’t be bothered to look back through earlier posts to ensure I am not repeating myself.
The long and short of it – I am the type of writer to come up with a concept after the material is written. (Is that even a thing, or am I just nuts?) This is the reason I have so many stories started on my computer, with no end in sight. I couldn’t tell you how many times I rewrote one in particular, and still have yet to get past a first draft. Outlines are like complex algorithms to me, and I approach planning a story like a kid on Christmas morning – screw the wrapping paper, fancy bows and decorations attached, I just want my hands on what’s inside.
…And then you end up with endings to your first draft that are too embarrassing to read even to yourself.
So without further ado; the last finished poem saved on my hard drive.
Uhoh.
Looks like I’m going to actually have to work, just to get my next piece posted.
Mirror, Mirror
Never mind your insolence
Never mind your mistakes
You win the world, just by the look on your face
Never mind the price you pay
Mirror, mirror
Help me to see clearer
Why must you be so contrite?
Steal, steal away and start the fight.
Let it linger,
Finger on the trigger
Bring the avalanche, down
They never had a chance.
Who are you to win me over?
Pull the wool right onto my eyes
Who are you, to pick this fight?
Pull out this bloody knife
Mirror, mirror
What’s this feeling
You keep pushing nearer?
Pull, pull away
And break these fucking chains
Now, where’s your shame?
Push and pull, then get carried away
Tap more lies into your veins
Just until the pain fades
But it’s never satisfying
Mirror, mirror
Take the wheel, but let me steer
Run, run away from the truth at your feet
Gatekeeper man now ain’t so discreet
Mirror, mirror burn it down
For this last stand you will hear me bow
A Vampire's Pen 