I looked into the mirror the other day and saw my mother’s face.
Needs to apply more wrinkle cream, I‘d say.
The lower lid and underneath my eyes a darkened area has formed,
It won’t wash away, I think they’re here to stay.
I glare into the dark brown eyes staring back at me
from within this bathroom mirror,
Deep, deep, trying to find who really is in there.
I know what this external shell, now in disrepair looking back at me,
has gone through.
I stare at my reflection deep inside thinking I see those shadows
who’ve held my heart, whose hand held true.
Now this person inside the mirror leers back at me with a querying face
wondering as to why I reach into it’s past.
A small sparkling trickle slowly crawls out from the lower eye lid,
a solemn memory lurks in this tear drops’ shadow, cast.
Two or three days from now if I’m allowed to once again stare into this mirror
After the doctors repair my limbs and provide me with a new beginning,
I commit a promise to this reflecting face,
my love of family and friends will now and forever be my life’s embrace.