The Mirror

The Mirror Glass of deception, Window of lies. You show me a surface, Full of vicious untruths. I am not this, This thing staring back, I am more. I am much more. You show a face, A body; A figure without substance. A form with no purpose. But there is much more You are not capable of showing. Is this your fault? Is this an accident? No, I daresay not. Is it my fault? Do I fail to display more Than a surface to you? My depth is unknown, My substance unmeasured. Yet it is there. And I must prove it. My heart beats within, A rhythm undeniable Of passion, desire, and need. But you reflect none of this. My mind screams to be heard, A thousand times it seems. Yet you display none of this, No matter how hard I look. My soul cries out to be recognized, To be seen as it truly is. The inner me Is not reflected. So I must strive, push on each day To be reflected as more Than just a hollow shell. I must show substance, passion, character. I struggle to prove I am here, see me! For I am only as much as I see Reflected in the mirror of your eyes.