Medusa

I judge people too quickly,

Too harshly.

The imprint they leave on my mind is frozen solid and is rarely revived to new life.

Be it good or bad,

One look and their soul is rock,

Weighing on mine.

I always see this folly of mine.

I promise I do.

But I am cursed

And I am anxiously waiting for the day it is either lifted or reflected back on me;

For the day when the wind will either rumple my hair as I smile admiringly at people I don't know,

Or wither me away in despair,

Forgotten and unloved.