in front of you

it's all true
if you want it to be
you can be miserable
all by yourself

is a shattered mirror
broken? or just
a multi-faceted
expression of itself?

it's all there
right in front of you
the truth and the lies
that you tell yourself

is a beating heart
broken? or just
an expressionless
predilection of death?

it's all vanity
posed in your likeness
a shimmering view
for eyes of the deft

is a silent message
broken? or just
an open invitation
to join the bereft?

it's all frigidity
in the chill of your creation
winter's deadly gray
contempt to be felt

is a cold spring morning
broken? or just
concealed passion
waiting for the melt?

© 2008 BY W GARY FORRESTER