Tuesday, 4 October 2011



I have a face but no eyes, yet I
can tell many things. I am sometimes big
and sometimes small, but I do everything the same.
Someone can turn and twist me until I have
changed, changed like a new season, new month,
yet I am in control.

I feel a bad rumbling, ringing through my body.
But I can't hear it, I have no ears.
I can't stay still, I change every minute,
sometimes every second. I get tired, like
a lion after chasing its prey. I go
to sleep but someone always wakes me.

My hands, they are very important:
without them, I am useless, like a bird
without wings. I control people's lives,
I control the past, present and future...
The people, they are like puppets to my strings.
I have been going on like this for years.

I sense movement - people, they come and go,
Sometimes they never come back. The people
grow old and new people appear. I sometimes
sense sadness, someone has gone.
Perhaps it was their time, I have my
time, I control time.

Eleanor Atkinson

This poem was based on the dramatic monologue of Sylvia Plath's Mirror.

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