On the 2nd of October (two weeks ago, this Thursday) I found myself back in London but for a very different reason. Throughout the entire day, excitement, passion and disbelief brewed in my stomach. When walking up to Festival Hall, my legs buzzed with the weakening pump of adrenaline. The Awards room seethed with passionate poets. I had never felt so part of a group of people so unfamiliar. Those strangers, turned out to be some of the best people who I hope to keep in touch with for a very long time.
Despite my original feelings of inferiority, standing among the best young poets in the world, the feelings of fear and insecurity dispersed and transformed into a passionate confidence. It was one of the most inspirational and fun days of my entire life!
So, I’m sure that y’all want to read the poem that I entered. Here you go;
The Mirror is an observer.
It has seen us from all angles,
It sees the way we see ourself.
The Mirror is a con man.
It mimics every movement.
We come to it to see ourself.
The Mirror is not a liar.
It reflects what is there,
No sugarcoats or biases.
The Mirror is a victim.
It is blamed for Society’s fall
And Beauty’s sudden rise in power.
The Observer knows that we’re insecure,
The Con Man knows we’re vain,
The Honest knows that we’re the liar,
The Victim knows that we’re to blame.
The Mirror knows who we really are.