Poems from My Broken Mirror

“Poems from My Broken Mirror”
→ A poetry series that captures vulnerability and self-reflection.

I. The Shatter

Once, I stood whole in morning light,
A frame of flesh, a soul held tight.
The mirror smiled, a faithful friend,
Reflecting truths I used to defend.

But time, it crept on silent feet,
And fed me lies both sharp and sweet.
A whisper here, a shadow there—
I cracked beneath the weight of care.

One careless breath, one trembling hand,
And shattered went what couldn’t stand.
A thousand shards upon the floor,
A self I couldn’t find no more.


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II. The Edge of Glass

I kneel among the glittered pain,
And see my eyes in fractured rain.
Each sliver hums a silent song,
Of all I did, of all went wrong.

One shard reflects a younger face—
Too eager, lost in love’s embrace.
Another shows a colder stare,
The one who learned that life’s unfair.

I bleed on every piece I touch,
The cost of seeing is too much.
Yet still I gather, bit by bit,
For even pain holds truths well lit.


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III. Conversations with Cracks

I speak to ghosts inside the glass,
They answer back, they do not pass.
They are the “should’ve,” “could’ve” cries,
They are the self I compromised.

One says, “You loved, but lost your name.”
Another hisses, “You chased fame.”
One weeps, “You never said goodbye,”
And one just watches as I cry.

Each voice a wound that never mends,
Each shard a truth that twists, pretends.
Yet in their sharp and honest gaze,
I find my darkest, truest ways.


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IV. The Mirror Remembers

My mirror does not flatter now,
It shows me what I can’t allow.
The parts I hid, the masks I wore,
The lies I fed to want for more.

It shows the nights I cursed the moon,
And wished my end would come too soon.
It plays the reel of silent screams,
Of broken hopes and broken dreams.

It holds no shame, it holds no grace,
Just bitter truth and every trace.
But oh, the freedom in the view—
To see myself, not just what's true.


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V. Fragments of Becoming

Not all who break are meant to die,
Some scatter just so they can try—
To build anew, with trembling hands,
A self that even pain withstands.

I stitch my soul with golden seams,
And speak again to haunted dreams.
They nod and vanish in the light,
Like stars that only glow at night.

I leave some pieces on the floor,
For not all truths deserve restore.
But those I lift, I place with care,
And shape a self that’s raw and rare.


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VI. The Mirror Inside Me

There comes a time you understand,
The mirror’s not held in your hand.
It lives within, behind your gaze,
It breaks and builds through all your days.

So now I look with softer eyes,
Through years of pain, through countless tries.
I see a heart that still can beat,
Though scarred and tired, it won’t retreat.

This mirror speaks in gentler tones,
It weeps with me, it laughs alone.
Together, we reflect and grow,
And learn the beauty in the woe.


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VII. A New Reflection

In shattered glass, I found my face,
Not just the grief, but also grace.
For every wound that left a mark,
Also revealed a vital spark.

I’ve stitched my pieces, not too clean—
The cracks still show where I have been.
But they don’t weaken what I see—
They make the portrait truly me.

So when you ask if I am whole,
I’ll say I am—my fractured soul
Has built a light from broken days,
A mirror made of burning blaze.


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VIII. The Final Pane

This poem ends, but not the song,
The mirror hums its truth lifelong.
And every time I feel the ache,
I write again what shadows make.

These poems born from pain and dust,
Are not just scars—they are my trust.
For in my shards, I found the key:
To love the broken parts of me.

So take these verses, hold them near—
They come from loss, but ring sincere.
And if you see yourself in mine,
Know cracked reflections still can shine.

Thank you for Reading This poem.