Disco (an acrostic poem)

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Dancing beneath the huge mirror ball

Its reflections allows the light to dance among us

Sound escaping from the speakers driving our bodies into

Contortions of limbs and torsos while

Outside the 70’s became an inferno

Suit (an acrostic poem)

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Standing in front of the mirror, he feels vulnerable

Until he starts the process of putting on his armor

It’s part the ritual and part the layers of protection.

That makes him feel invulnerable, especially with the addition of the power tie.

Fancy (an acrostic poem)

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Focusing on the boring fundamentals was not his strong suit

All he wanted to do was gild the lily with as much gold as it could handle

Nothing made him happier than making those around him not feel plain

Causing them to bloom and allowing him to make them sparkle even more

Yet when he looked into the mirror he didn’t see anything …

Pupil (an acrostic poem)

 

Perhaps the eyes are the mirror to the soul

Until you think about that little crack in the facade

Potentially that means your soul might be trying to break out

It could also mean that your soul doesn’t really want to be seen, breaking the glass

Leaving you either a prison to break free from or just broken

 

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Pretty (a 100 word story)

Lincoln believed he was very confident in who he was, but still had this aching desire to be called pretty by someone.  Hell, anyone.  He was called many things, but never that magical word.

Finally, after a long time of searching everywhere, he finally heard the words, “You are pretty, Lincoln.”  It put such a huge smile on his face.

He wished he could have hugged the man in the mirror who said it, but instead he wrapped his arms around himself.  It might not be much, but it was a start.

He had to be the first to believe.

 

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Monster’s Eyes (a 100 word story)

I stare into the monster’s eyes and wonder how it has come to this.  I try to be a good person most of the time.  I help old ladies across the street sometimes.  I give to charity at the checkout of the grocery store.  These things are supposed to help with karma, at least that’s what I believed.

Sure I had my bad times.  We all have those.  Still, I thought I was a net positive in the karma bank, but here I was, face to face with the monster, knowing there was no escape.

My fist smashed the mirror.

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Shattered (an acrostic poem)

Shards fell from the mirror frame

Here goes seven years of bad luck

And yet Liz saw this as an opportunity

Too often lately life had attacked her

Tommy died in the motorcycle accident

Eventually she had lost the house

Recovering from the depression was almost the worst part

Even now it peaked out from behind her eyes, but she blinked it away

Deftly she scooped up the shards and arranged them artfully to reflect her new life

Monster (an acrostic poem)

Monica looked at her face in the mirror

Only she would notice the cracks in her facade

New wrinkles at the edges of her lips, eyes that had dark halos

Simples cosmetic touch ups here and there and the mask was complete

Twisting her feelings into a bun and putting an emotional wig over them

Everything seemed just perfect in the artificial bathroom light

Ready as she ever was going to be, it was time to face him for the last time