My Reflection: Poetry

These hands,
soft and deliberate,
dark and calloused,
remember all things 
as if everything 
I've touched
produced itself:
Internal reflection
the mind creates
a world within
the subconscious;
If one's thoughts
are not in harmony,
that place becomes
hate, rage and fear
be always open 
to your subtle mind
and the true reasons
for all you do
You see,
The external mirror 
has never been 
my companion;
staring at it 
for long periods
produces naught
but pain
My reflection is
a portal,
taking me to
the scars of memory
I carry but others
do not see
The greatest lesson
is to still the mind
while simultaneously
interacting with 
the world.

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