The Mirror Poem by Maurice Rowlands

He’s not as afraid of me
As I am of him
Just look at his grin

Is he still there?
If I go back at night
And turn out the light?

Will he be there when I’ve gone?
I’ll never know
I’ll try it and go

What use is he anyway?
Does he cheer me up when I’m sad?
Does he calm me down when I’m mad?

He just stares back at me
What is he thinking?
Has the weirdo been drinking?

My God he looks rough in the morning
His eyes are drooped like a willow
His face is still creased from his pillow

Sometimes he’s fat
Sometimes he’s thin
I’m glad I’m not him

Just who does he think he is?
Acting all better than me
I can take him on, you’ll see

I’m sure he’s plotting against me
I can see that look in his eye
A demeanour that comes across sly

But sometimes, and yes only sometimes
He’ll wink as if to say
“Hey buddy, everything’s doing ok! ”