The Man In the Mirrior

I’m looking in a mirror at a man I fear. The more I stare, the more I become aware, aware of all the things he done to me. Like putting me through all the heart aches, left from his breaks. Having me go through the ups and downs and the sounds of emptiness. Each time I look in the mirror the stare become vigorous, it’s never a glorious feeling to feel depress. I ask him in the mirror every day the same question WHY? He replies with an extremely loud silence. So it’s you I blame for the shame I have on myself. And then I point the finger at you, for leaving my soul wounds black and blue unbearable to you. O.k. then I scream at you when I’m left playing the fool. The man in the mirror just look hopelessly waiting for me to notice that it’s not much of a difference between him and I. I took a dare to stare a little deeper in to the mirror as it become clearer, I got the direction that the whole time it was my reflection.