Mirrors
I stand before the mirror
And a parody looks back at me
One who tries too hard
But never really found a home
Perhaps a wandering minstrel
Selling songs for any who will listen
But when night falls
The crowds disappear
And into dispair he may descend
Beneath the kiss of a full moon
He lays there with his eyes open wide
Looking into the void
It's telling to be alone
Surrounded by people
But worth is dictated by production
Not by personality
And certainly not the physique
A beauty the minstrel is not
And a gaze in the mirror
Reminds me of every flaw
Even as some suggest it's best to ignore it
But some birth defects
That one has no way of changing
Can't be ignored
No matter how hard the minstrel tries
And that's why he'll never be normal
Which is all he ever wanted
To see straight with both eyes
So people don't look over their shoulders when he speaks
Or act like he's mentally inept
And woe is him that little minstrel
Because some have it so much worse
Perhaps when the minstrel looks back
He sees a little boy
A child who never got over his deepest fears
A child who breaks his back for others
A child who is the first to support anyone else
A child with so much pent up angst
A child with so much regret
The minstrel might cry
And I might cry as well
But then our crying turns to laughter
The worst of it really
Because we're just a parody
Before a mirror
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