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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[27-03-2019]

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