The Dusty Old Mirror
I saw an image sitting in
The corner collecting dust
It was an old mirror
Covered with bright red rust
It had some cracks
Long markings and gum
It had a story to tell
The time had come
The mirror suddenly
Got frosty and cold
As fog covers, it didn’t
Want its story told
So, I placed it back
Into the corner it was found
It was obvious to me
The story had to be profound
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