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Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Broken Mirror [The Art Garden's Poem]

Broken Mirror

By Ro Mehrooz

Early or late,
Whenever I wake up
I look at the mirror and speak to

There I see
My look and fate

There I see
The tragedies on my back
The scare of bullet hitting

This morning I woke up,
But I couldn’t dare to look at the mirror
To look at my back
Because when I see the scare
I see on the mirror, the scenarios I have suffered

I felt a bullet was flying to hit to my head
Suddenly I looked down and avoided
And I ran out

Now the bullet hit the mirror
And the mirror was broken to pieces
The shreds were diffused on the floor

Now I see the mirror
In the taxi,
In a barber shop


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