A Spat With the Man In My Mirror

I’d hang my head in shame The day I stop querying the man in my mirror Whose name I’d associate with blame For daring to conceal the fear and tear My conscience weeps as the man fails to keep Promises made to me from the day the avatar Chose to defend every noble cause I hold dear deep Within every pore my conscience drives far Away from consideration beyond contestation To preserve my dignity and sanity As I query motives driving the man’s orchestration Of assets and precepts whose vanity I feel betray skills God bestowed on me To add value to the truth to serve humankind To the best of my ability, to work like a bee In a honeycomb when shame covers my face if I should find Joy in oppressing the weak Misleading the poor in my tour of duty Where I’m better off dead up the creek Than alive and dead inside enjoying the booty Dishonesty, disrespect and total disregard Landing within my grasp when by stealth of hand I project the man in my mirror to the vanguard Despite his puny performance and corny romance that stand Me in bad stead On the scale of probity At work and in my homestead Where the money in my kitty Itches to switch off every machine that keeps me in suspended animation Between a lie and a dye that colour my hair black to spite the grey Hair from which I draw acclamation To bless my Creator to whom day and night I pray Begging for forgiveness for the man’s foibles As in anger I break the mirror, vowing to reform the man If he should remain a friend of mine not in fables But in real time provided the man chooses to accord any woman The respect she deserves not because of her beauty But because in my God’s grand scheme women Matter more as equal partners who no naughty Men should treat less respectfully than they treat men.