by Ridwan Atolagbe

A piece of a broken reflection

Slaving under the unattractiveness of the sun

What a halt to the insensitiveness of the mind?

Drown in the sea of its own uncertain thoughts

My look with an assertive pride

What a mirror I am?

I am lost in the direction of my own path

I thought I never let the shields down

I feel the fire in my bone

I see the pains disguised through my face

I sense the hotness of my blood, boiling for it’s unfound passion

What a mirror I am?

The bleeds from the broken parts of me

Sharp enough to tear my heart into pieces

I felt like I never ever lived a life of my own

As if my breaths is being auctioned

Who owns the best bid ?

That I ponder and wonder

What a mirror I am?

The darkness comes forth

The light I seek seems to be far-fetched

I hope am not in the night phase of my life

So why do everything seems blank?

And my shadow finally betrayed me

On a day I seek more of my vision

What a mirror I am?

Maybe I am just the definition of their perspective

A man with no treason but reason

Simple and scary with indefinite decisions

Perhaps one day I will find myself

Not today but definitely

What a mirror I am?