I think about it in my quit hours
speculate on fictional futures
wonder on withered worlds
ponder on particular pasts
looking in the mirror I see
the most brilliant reflection
stained with cracks so permanent
so harsh, I often wonder
could the cracks be beauty
maybe they could be painted on
smoothed out
filled with diamond shavings
maybe then I'd stop craving yesterday
or perhaps yesterday is just a dream
a mist that now I come through
mind and body all new
remodeled
reformed
See the mirror and see new purpose
look back and hold the tears
the breaks in the mirror won't change,
but perspective does
so look back and
Remember the cracks
Love the mirror
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