Day 15 of Poetry Month 2018

Be reflective, he said. Okay, I said.

The mirror cracked

I see myself
without the layers.
Extending past the edges, I am not pretty.
I am not pure, but purity is so circumspect these days.
Were prophets always perfect in their thoughts and words and deeds?
Was there no vice through which even the most holy man (or woman) spilt a lie?
So how you hold me up to reflect perfection if perfection is not attainable within our time?
Was there no vice through which even the most holy man (or woman) built a lie?
Were prophets always perfect in their thoughts and wards and deeds?
I am not pure, but purity is so retrospect these days.
Extending past the edges, I am so gritty.
Without the layers,
I see myself.

© 2018 Catherine Woods