Man In The Mirror Poem by Simon Matar

I once saw a man, dark was his face
Tired from a race or worn of a chase
Familiar was his face, maybe a bit thinner
Stupid I was, it's the Man in the mirror

Seemed to have been through a lot lately
Stuck somewhere, couldn't get out easily
Locked were the eyebrows, that of a hitter
Tears in his eyes, obviously a quitter

Being known to have a smile to paint
Principles of high value, almost a saint
Now all what is left, a frown so bitter
Far from being good, down to a sinner

For Mercy, I was asking, sounded so dull
No words could come out, uttered none
I again gazed at the man in that round mirror
Seeing nothing but a looser, a wanna-be winner

Couldn't see more, I broke it with rage
I thought with this, I'd flip that page
Scattered were the pieces, like cheap glitter
Shinning wih no value at all, but to litter

What is it to do, what to resolve?
Whom should I ask, whom to involve?
Was I ungrateful, on a bless a spitter
Was I missing it all, things that matter

He dared me, looked back into my eyes
Laughed sarcastically, seemed more wise
Froze in my place, I saw motion in that image
He jumped out of it, I was the one in a cage

My senses died, only one thing was so clear
The sound of his steps fading, I could hear
His shadow growing fainter, couldn't but see
He was heading to the light... in the dark, he left Me...