Through The Looking Glass

by Pom

Published April 4, 2012

In Poetry

All is silent
All is serene
Not a ripple on the surface
Everything is clean
 
And that is how I see things
Now that everything is clear
With a hinge of scented sweetness
Through eyes free of tears
 
It was about time too
After all these years
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Even strength must bow to wisdom sometimes.
— Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief