Mirror on the Wall
I cannot tell it all
The mirror on the wall cannot tell it all.
Neither a map marked where I’ve been
My mind contains a mixture of moments.
A mask of what I’m feeling deep within.
Metaphors and doors left open.
Passageways leading to a solid wall
Dreams of the past fleet by so fast
To a leafy glade where the teardrops fall.
I cannot explain the feeling of the pain.
It’s only relative to my situation.
Symbolic and metaphorical connections
It seems a characteristic combination.
Left in the dark symbolic and stark
No batteries in the torch to stripe the night
The moon and the stars are pinpoints in jars.
And the end game is nowhere in sight.
I cannot find the spiel to deal with how I feel.
Or an allusive illustrative metaphor
Ophelia Isabella and another feller
They are people I have never met before.
If it’s in a dream followed by a scream
Or a sixth sense or blue déjà vu
I stopped and tested the significance.
And say hello to someone that I never knew.
It may be in a moment of a mood.
Paraphernalia and people are parabolic.
Misty interviews should have been recorded in the news.
Strange games that are mostly symbolic.
©
David Rudder
2023
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