Self is the Killer Reckless of the Cost

Find me an image,
something I won't hate.
Things get lost in the translation,
could be the true meaning of fate.
I hate everything.
The most, I hate you!
As your reflection looks back at me
through the cold
mirror eyes that stands before me.
Give me my freedom, let me go.
Your hanging on too tight.
I can't breath.
It's killing my soul.
Please let me go. . .


Dec 03/04
By Connor C.
Copyrighted by HalfBaked Publications