By Joshua A. Apolonio
A crack, I’ve seen here
Scratched paper just like it was;
Not good anymore.
Shiny and glossy,
And is cleaner than before;
But now is dirty.
Our previous past time
Just like a broken past life,
Can’t be mended now.
Really I can see
Broken glass fell off the floor,
Still be seen but bad.
It had just broken
Plane and flat mirror on wall,
Now is uneven.
Through the looking glass,
I see a kaleidoscope
Here are many me’s.
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