Man in the mirror

 

Into the mirror I look,

deep into the lake of reflection.

It's playing games with my perception.

So many years added to this face,

sagging bags that betray my age.

I see wrinkles

where straight lines used to be.

It mimics,

but is it a true reflection of me?

 

Into its eyes I gaze.

The shimmer of recognition,

it is clearly a good rendition

but I feel a deep sense of suspicion.

Is it the way the eyes dart just too fast?

Like it's trying to read my mind.

Is it the way the movements seem

just a little out of time?

 

I look deeply

at the profile pointing back at me,

is it real?

Poised and pouting, it is mocking, I feel.

If I cried would the tears run down his face?

I have my doubts, difficult to erase.

If I smile would his lips point to the sky?

Or would they fall into a sneer?

Would his teeth appear?

Sharp and vicious

Would it be malicious?

 

The image in the mirror stares back,

identical it seems

but it has a sarcastic grin,

He is now moving before I am,

am I mimicking him?

Am I the reflection staring in?

The mirror face looks back at me

and winks.

 

Thanks for reading,

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Peace, Love and  Poetry

Kyle