The Mirror Poem by dino evans

THE MIRROR

Once upon a long ago, my youth was wild, and free...
The mirror saw a life that stretched ahead...
But now, reflection shows my life, thats left in back of me...
The memories are still there, in side my head...

The past love, and the happiness, of days and years I've spent...
Are there with all I've done, and what I've lost...
I've paid for time I've lived, and the mirror takes the rent...
And tired eyes see all of what it's cost...

The image of a man who is still the man I was...
Though time has changed the look of who I see...
Time will take its toll on youth, I know this all because...
This mirror has shown all of this to me....

Looking at myself I see not, what others see..
All the ones who've known me all this time....
I notice all the changes, that have slowly come to me...
Though can't be seen inside this lonely rhyme...

Like seasons change from spring, into summer, on to fall...
The mirror shows the change in me as well...
Standing silent, silver glass reveals, reveals it all...
To me, and some things I don't want to tell...

But I must give myself, to what time will bring me now...
And thus, brings to us all in time, you'll find...
The mirror opens up to us and changes us somehow...
But still, I feel the same, inside my mind...

Maybe I could take time back, make it different, or would I? ...
Change this life I've lived without you there...
I don't know what is right, it tells me nothing, but oh, why...
Reflection shows me just a cold, blank stare..

Seeing things my eyes have seen before, from years ago...
Memories flood my mind, but leave me here..
Being, but not being, is what the mirrors show...
Reflections hold in nothing but my fear...

I find that I'm two men now, one that looks, and one looks back...
The glare that blinds, so I turn from the light...
And as I do the room will fade to dark, and then to black...
But one man stands there waiting, through the night...

And in the morning, I can see, I'm different overall...
It happens to my face, and without thinking...
No words are spoken, spirit broken, days and years will fall...
I weep with tired eyes, those left unblinking...

Am I the man outside the glass, or one who's locked inside...
Old age has not left questions any clearer...
So I just look back at myself, where loneliness resides...
My youth is lost inside this dreadful mirror....



dean evans 3-27-08