Narcissus
I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did -
the fool!
What was it that he saw that made him so give up his heart
for something unattainable.
I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did.
Perhaps it was the pool he so adored, well, if that be;
How then it did deceive him cruelly.
Poor, poor, sad boy; if he had but received real love,
instead of nothing but a miming mug,
I'm sure, that he would not have sought to waste,
So valuable a thing as love upon a flimsy face.
I couldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did,
When what I see when I look at my face
are blots, not seen when I stand in the shade,
But magnified now I move closer in.
But then he had no spots, no wrinkles too.
Still, even if mine was so smooth,
That I could fool a women's touch with it,
I do not think I could, like him, pine after my own image.
Copyright © Emmanuel Paul | Year Posted 2009
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