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Mirror

I think I knew him once,
or maybe it was just a dream.
He keeps on staring back at me
as if trying to say something.

His eyes seem so familiar,
lonely pools
where a stranger's soul dwell.
His face never seems to linger,
consistently changing
into something else.
Written by prestonGibson (NomadsPath)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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