This an excerpt from a piece I am tweaking for a performance/Slam piece. the poem as a whole is discussing the facades we often display and just me digging down a little deeper.
enjoy....
So now , I just throw poetry slams in the bathroom mirror
With tears as audiences
Leaky faucets snapping after each verse
Staring in the eyes of my biggest critic
She looks just like me...
Except I can't find her smile
And her eyes are red
But I know I have seen her before
alliterating on stages
and whispering sweet love nothings on pages
But I know that deep down, there has got to be more...
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