Treasure Island

Rod Morris

(14-09-1934 / Auckland, New Zealand)

Uneducated Mirrors


I thought that I was handsome but my mirror never lies,
So when I look into it now I always close my eyes.
If I can’t see the wrinkles and the road-maps disappear,
This knowledge is exciting and I have nought to fear.
Long before we had mirrors we looked into a pool,
Through the ripples what looked back was rather cool.
Science to the rescue; mirrored glass then came to be,
From every angle pirouette, see what’s come of thee.
Promenades, fashion parades; females strut their stuff,
Catwalks lined with gaga crowds, just can’t get enough.
So mirror on the wall what happened to that young lad,
Please put him back with grey hair; he’s really not that bad.
He’s weathered many storms in life, all etched upon his face,
It’s what’s deep inside within his heart no mirror can erase.

Submitted: Sunday, October 13, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013

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A modest poem.

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