Poetry By A.J. Huffman

A Living Looking Glass
By A.J. Huffman

swallows the souls of many
because she does not have
one of her own.  Hollow
is her form, to echo,
her fate.  Many
follow her, claim she has hidden
depths beyond her years.
They are a constant
parade of Narcissists.  I laugh
at their folly.  Together,
they could not hold a world
that was not empty. 
I see right through them
as I pass.  I wish them rain
to fill cracks they lack.
They welcome such temporary
distractions, cherish them
like diamonds.

Watching the Breadcrumbs Float By
By A.J. Huffman

The stream is confused by my continued
throwing of bits of would-be food
for non-existent wildlife.  It seems the world
has abandoned me, left me alone
with only my thoughts and day-old bread
to chew on.  I refuse both,
focus on the current as if willing it to wash me,
piece by piece, into a better tomorrow.

A.J. Huffman is a writer based in Daytona Beach, FL.

"I have been a freelance writer for over 20 years. I wouldn't know how to be anything else."