Broken glass

By
If you look in the mirror and
don’t like what you see
You might find out first hand
what its like to be me
I’m surprised the mirror didn’t break yet
The mirror in my soul certainly did
Along with my heart and my gasp on life
Why am I doing this?
I should just go back to bed?
Why am I even alive?
What’s the point?
Now I’m standing there
With bloody knuckles
And broken glass all around me
Looks like I got 7 years of bad luck
Its not like the last 15 years where good luck
What’s the point





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