Mirror

I stand alone, staring into the mirror of life I see many faces, stricken by strife. And I wonder, isn’t life nothing more than a reflection? A rumination; nothing short of a revelation?

The past flashes before my very eyes, Sometimes hard, sometimes nice. I see myself standing in a crowd I want to shout; to cry out aloud.

I want to reach out; to warn the younger me, To implore him not to grow up into “me” I cling to the edges, clutching at thin air, Watching him curse life for being unfair.

I watch him fall over and over in obvious pain Only to wonder whether there was anything to gain. I look at the mud clinging to his face And I marvel at the innocence and grace.

Somewhere along the line I had lost it all, The smile and the laughter; big and small. I had turned into the mask I see before me now; Deprived of joy, bereft of love.

The mirror is nothing but a beacon of life, The glass shows nothing but a profusion of strife. Amidst the ruins, I see myself bow, Clutching at that beautiful strand of life called LOVE!