A/N: I actually wrote this poem a while ago (late November or early December or those whereabouts), but only just now found it again. All I have to say in regards to it is this: inspiration can be found in the most obscure of things.
Mirrored image, reflecting yet another glass pane,
Do you distort or stay true?
How can I trust a painting of a painting
To show me a reality?
Crown of flowers, I know it is you still.
Don't hide, don't hide behind another mirror-
Let me see this falsehood,
Only so I may see you.