Poem-with-no-name-yet

11:51 AM

There's this tiresome girl that I know,
She seems to go wherever I go
She's not like my shadow or anything,
She's always there before me, just watching
Each time I seek her, she's immediately there
Gazing back at with that penetrating stare
Nothing can be hidden from those piercing eyes
They strip away my charades and disguise
I glare back, seeking emotion in that complexion
Only to find my own sorrow in reflection
She always seems to feel just as I
She mostly looks critical, she hates to cry
I'm suspicious she must not have much in her head
For when I speak, she merely repeats what I've said
She knows all my secrets, my shames and my joys
She shares my opinions concerning clothes and boys
I'm not sure what to make of her
She's cautious of me
So why, each time I look in the mirror
Forever this tiresome girl, I see?

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