Mirror
As I look at my reflection, in the flat glass
hanging on the wall, I wonder who I'm really
looking at. Do I see beauty? Do I see ugliness?
Ugliness, I see, with my disgust of shame and anger
that makes the glass shatter; as is my half broken heart.
Shame is disgustful because the pain and suffering that
leads to the breaking of the colorful glass that seeks
out my Soul.
As the hot shower steams up, I clear the mirror, and I find
some type of comfort and warmth in my Soul. It is confusing,
yet, comforting. I wish that I may see the beauty in the mirror, but that will
take many mornings to find it.
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