My Face Poem by James Gibbons

Whose face is in the mirror?
A facsimile without a spirit
caught for just a moment,
turns away re-appearing
whenever I'm near.
My undeniable twin;
my other half, innocent
of the day's deeds.
Pure as polished glass.
What feats can he perform
as I flex my soft muscles
and observe his wrinkled face

But there is a soldier,
with gritty countenance
and worn leather skin.
Has braved life's campaign,
still sees sunshine
everywhere, in all he does.
Heart full of gratitude
for this precious gift.
My face in the mirror sir,

My face.