Reflection

I cant believe this is a concoction of the same mind that has practically no imagination right now. Another one of my penned down thoughts in the form of so called poetry (I dont mean to belittle the word poetry, by calling it so).

Reflection

Stupendous statues of glass
Stand proudly in a corner of my room
Admire them with a distant class
Don't dare but to ever zoom.

A transparent lady
With a transparent torch
O princess of beauty
Don't peck on my porch.

Humans are made of pipeclay
Accompanied by greed
I promise if I may
Never will I sow another seed.

A careless blow
Tattered my lady beyond recognition
I sit back with a glow
To rejoice the death of my reflection.