Meeting My Reflection

I used to walk

To a local pond every day

Sit on a bench

And stare at my reflection

It would stare back at me

We wouldn’t say a word

Then we’d both make our seperate ways home

One day I got bored

So, I picked up a pebble

And threw it right at his forehead

But the little blighter threw one right back at me!

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 22 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

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