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!