Tiles

It isn’t the pain we feel,
that tarnishes our soul.
It’s the constant fear of pain,
that comes from unknown corners.
It slowly wears our precious metal down,
until the once bright silver hue,
is all but gone, worn away.
Left underneath is a cheap tin frame,
with no means to support us.
Oh, yes indeed it still reflects.
But, reflections are but mirrored images,
that can’t withstand the power,
of those dark refrains,
that push us down,
beneath the folds;
layers of life that move
over us with subtle ease.
It is these tectonic plates,
whose force unknown,
push us onward to an unknown fate.