Pleasant Surprises Poem by Ash Price

I wondered into the mirror. This type
of occurrence does dont happen often enough.
I had came home and had just began to realize I let the day slip past me. This can make a being tired, very tired indeed that what you should be appreciating is once again deviated from your awareness of life. What I did next is hard to explain. For somehow, I became relative. Merely, I asked myself through my mirror if you had any idea what type of life you are living, and even shortly afterward do you even care?
Of course, myself was as scared as I in that same living room with the desk right below the mirror with the mirror closely to the door. The sun shone through that same window next to the door through those beige curtains and, in my opinion, that depressingly orange sunset was illuminated. Quite frankly, it was as if it was the same day as it was every day when I venture back home, except now I was through
the mirror and myself was hunched back in that tired gray suit I always seem to wear, except of course the fire of a noetic essence was enveloping my eyes; as well as the waves of confusion were present.
He answered, well, I believe so because it's my life. I told him to act as if it was a life and not a repetition of a cycle because life is always about surprises, but only the good kind.
I smiled and he said of course. I asked do you deny it?
He said on the contrary, it is what I look forward to in everyway. I wandered out of the mirror and smiled as I saw myself with brand new eyes and I took my coat and wavered out on that beautiful sunset, waiting for pleasant surprises.