Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror Up at 6:00 in the morning, a face in a mirror that’s cracked, startled by what you see, an old man there, a shadow of something he wanted to be, a shadow he supposes is better than a ghost, it means he has more time, a path is still open to be a rich man, respected, have reason to boast, he’ll march out the door, throw himself to it, kick aside bodies he passes, he’ll never be first, but damned if he’ll be last, but these bodies blocking his way, they too arose before their crew, shouting what they say, and could they and this man in the mirror be you? Up at 6:00 in the morning, a face in the mirror that's cracked, startled by what you see, an old man there, a shadow of something he wanted to be, a shadow he supposes is better than a ghost, it means he has more time, a path is still open to be a rich man, respected, have reason to boast, he'll march out the door, throw himself to it, kick aside bodies he's past, he'll never be firs, but damned if he'll be last, but these bodies blocking his way, they too arose early, shouting what they say, and could they and this man in the mirror be you?

Bluejay

Veteran of old My Poetry Forum before its hiatus. Happy to be back.

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