The Mirror Poem by Alan Buckholtz

When I was a little boy
I looked in the mirror
and combed my hair
had no idea who was there

as a young man shaving every day
the boy seemed to change
as I got older there wasn’t always
a mirror so I looked at others

I seemed to feel different depending
on how they looked at me
years later when I looked in the mirror
to see myself... my real self

I found that the real me, the same me
had always been in the mirror
...the mirror wrinkled