Numerous Self-Reflections Poem by Mark Heathcote

I've never endorsed one lost moment
never mind two, but isn't it funny
how sometimes we negate coldblooded
our feelings and act inhumanly.

And become hollowed-out shadows,
each one has numerous self-reflections
spent like worthless banknotes,
so we disguise our imperfections.

Clinging to whatever surface is current
always feeling disenfranchised
somehow we misinterpret-
each other, and then we backslide.

We regress and portion blame
lapse into our old defences,
I'm-not-at-fault and then counterclaim
whatever the consequences.