The Man In the Mirrior
I’m looking in a mirror at a man I fear. The more I stare, the more I become
aware, aware of all the things he done to me. Like putting me through all the
heart aches, left from his breaks. Having me go through the ups and downs and
the sounds of emptiness.
Each time I look in the mirror the stare become vigorous, it’s never a glorious
feeling to feel depress. I ask him in the mirror every day the same question
WHY? He replies with an extremely loud silence.
So it’s you I blame for the shame I have on myself. And then I point the finger at
you, for leaving my soul wounds black and blue unbearable to you. O.k. then I
scream at you when I’m left playing the fool.
The man in the mirror just look hopelessly waiting for me to notice that it’s not
much of a difference between him and I. I took a dare to stare a little deeper in to
the mirror as it become clearer, I got the direction that the whole time it was my
reflection.
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