Shattered, As A Mirror
If I had not walked
Out that marble bolt lock,
I would have snickered with hilarity
At the women of Earth
That wear their survival with pride.
His voice forever flooding my eyes;
That they are lazily profiting
On the work of a man.
The passages that now bring me
To tears and wish me to rot
I would push myself above,
And sit atop their throne of cries.
Had I stayed where that
Conniving, broken fragment of me
Wishes to dwell,
I would never feel the warmth of freedom,
A warmth hotter than any adoration.
And I would be too high on that throne
To touch any others
Who need so desperately to be touched.
Grace Libucha is a 19-year-old college student at the University of New Hampshire, originally from Farmington, Connecticut, USA. She is studying English at the university. She creates poems in moments of difficulty and emotional uncertainty, then later refurbishes them as creative products. Outside of her interests in literature, Grace is a dancer, dance instructor, and choreographer. She works with children and teenagers to help them tell stories through movement as well as treating their bodies with are and compassion.
