Good Morning Reflection

Meh. A random little write-up of the dramatic suicide of a lunatic. It's actually not entirely horrible, in my opinion; it's not my favorate of every poem I've ever done but it was the first really where I tried to look into someone else's skull to write something. The form isn't exactly... there. But it flows well enough, so it's all good. The first verse-thing is my favorate. ^_^

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The poem is explained below it.

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Good morning, reflection

I hope that you are well

The morning sky was swell

But then you know

You saw it in the window pane

With my own eyes

Did you dream last night?

Or did you plot out my demise

Are you compromised

In the ways

We seperate

Our seperate lives?

Did you realize?

We can never be the same

While in the window pane

You watched the blushing morning rise

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Good morning, reflection

I hope that you can hear

I'm not ready for another day of waiting here

But you are waiting

For a chance to get away

I can see

Do you ever sleep?

Or do you merely wait for me

To wake to light and wait for life to be?

Another day

Another useless way

To live life, to laughingly say 'free'

Can't you see?

It can't always be this way

There has to be a final day

Where you will win or finally lose to me

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Good morning, reflection

I hope that you don't mind

I just can't stand to do another day of this kind

But then you told me

That this is where such problems led

I watch you shaking

Pressing the gun to your head

Remember you said?

I could never get ahead!

Well then watch me!

As I blow us both bloody free

To live again, in memories of a life we fled

And as I said

We cannot live like this

A final bloody kiss

Before it's over and all strife is dead

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Good night, reflection

I hope to find you well.

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Note: The 'reflection' in the poem, while treated in context as if the narrator was actually talking to his reflection, is literally the nagging tempation to commit suicide. His conflict seems to be that he fights it with everything he has but eventually he realizes he either has to completely overthrow the desire or it eventually will kill him. He ends up no longer able or willing to compile the pain of fighting these inner desires with the difficulty of his regular life and ends up killing himself and his 'reflection' simotaneously.