Indie Scribe Magazine February 2015 | Page 38

By bittersweet epiphanies

We come to know our flaws.

The crazing of our porcelain,

The warping of our rails,

The static in our broadcast,

our small and epic fails.

They're triggered by a teacher

With a condescending tone,

The bully in the playground

The office or at home.

In the mirror that they offer

Darkly etched for all of time,

Gaunt and ugly, our reflection

Less our shattered paradigms.

© 2013 Frederick Andrew