This is a 10-minute affair while I was waiting for my lesson to start. Of course, this is in its raw form and I feel that it needs a bit polishing done in the future. Correct some kinks in there. But other than that, I thought it was quite a true account.
Heart callus seals over the chasms,
Wind chills reflected.
A lock into my eyes,
Scab replaces Scars.
Dead coral polyps sits upon,
A wound so founded.
*Wooden prince upon the statue,
The pince-nez perched,
You over there!
Mirror mirror on the wall,
Reflection, Reflection, none Absorbed!
Funny glasses, fun-fairs, oh!
Harry, Harry, you, who you are?
*in case you’re wondering, its the Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde.
Poem about me getting emotionless and immune or numb if you choose to call it like that from life and everything around me from repeated blows and exposures. Also talks about facades, appearance and reality, you know?
Oh and Harry, this name is arbitrary, if you’re called Harry, my apologies but it sounded good in the poem with the fact that it just popped into my head at the right time. But Harry is someone though.