Broken Mirror

I can't bring myself to get up and to look
To stare in a mirror and to read like a book,
The troubles within me, the aches of my soul.
The sadness, the torture I've faced all alone.
I can't stand the sight of my hideous face.
The scars and regrets that are sprinkled and spaced
Across the expanse of my weather-worn skin.
Reflecting the turmoil without as within.


Photo copyright Cheryl Syverson