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What now
September 6, 2014
My mirror speaks louder than my words, that's what the voices around me assure.
My voice means nothing without a pretty smile to shine though my own mask.
My skin is newspaper strips covering a hollow shell.
The stars shine mighty bright they cover the parts of the world that the sun cant kiss. They sleep on the shores of our atmosphere.
They say our words can change the world. But, what happens when there’s no more words to say? What happens when we run out of metaphors?
What happens when repeating history stops repeating itself.
© Seita O., Palatine, IL
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