Reflections of insanity

Written by: Sidney Hall Mad Poet

I don’t believe there is such a thing as a mirror,
Because this so called reflection is not really me.
I think he is a stranger that moved  into my house,
For the man that I see is somewhat,  ugly.

I think he built  this life size  window 
To spy on everything that  I do
And I can tell you he is beginning  pissing me off
I can feel my anger’s starting to brew

Once I moved to the side of the window
And he disappeared out of sight
What I could see a part of his room 
Gave me an terrible fright

The bugger’s been to the same shop 
And bought the same things I have
The bed, cupboards and lamp shades
And on the table he even has the same Sat. Nav.

I peeped into this window
With the hope to catch him off guard
But there he was looking at me
Staring just as hard

I stood in front of the loser and cussed the most colourful words
The monkey aped every action even the moving of his lips
Then it dawned on me that he wore the same clothes
In the same pose with his hands on his hips 

So infuriated, I punched the window
And ended his years of  peeping tom jeer
However, the bugger is now haunting me 
In every glass I happen to peer