The Mirror Has Two Faces Poem by Thoughts of a Single Man

The mirror has two faces. The one that can bee seen by any peering eye and the one that cane be viewed only from within. The mirror has two faces. The image that reveals the shadows of the soul repressed. The face found deeper that the simple skin of a grin.


She sees so many images layered upon one another as she looks longingly in to the unforgiving glass. Faces found in the torn reflections of a tortured past. Beyond the pretty smile, she can still see the sad eyes of a lost child, all the while pretending that her forced grin will save her. Asking the mirror for one last favor. To show her the future and all that she dreams it will hold yet there is no response from the cold pane, no image of a birthing flame, for the longer she looks the stronger becomes the forgotten stain. The remnants of her unseen pain. The abuse of the hands that hurt her and the words that we cast upon her and those who chose to dessert her. And the image begins to crack as pieces of a dream once known, the one she used to own, crumble like pebbles of the hammered stone. And in that moment she feels so alone wishing there were no more mirrors in her home. Mirror mirror on the wall who holds the lesson of them of all? For one can never hide from the truth found in their own eyes and in the still of a silent night she is frozen in a moment of time as she cries. The tears wept by those who still have scars left to heal, seen on a screen all to real, for there is always the view of what is there before them and what is inevitably truly buried in the soil of the soul where she stands beneath the silken strands of the warmth of the rising sun yet still shivers from the cold. The biting sting that riddled them in the frigid winds that assault their core and so she prays that she can forget what she saw as turns from the mirror watching the foggy print left by her broken heart slowly fade away like the warm breath of a heaving sigh.

The mirror has two faces. The one that can bee seen by any peering eye and the one that cane be viewed only from within. The mirror has two faces. The image that reveals the shadows of the soul repressed. The face found deeper that the simple skin of a grin.


He stands before the mirror in a moment that is suspended in time staring at his reflection for what seems like forever as slowly the memories that haunt his mind begin to form once again and then he is severed from what is there before him. The story unseen, told there in the depth of the shining glass. The story that is him. The glory of the past when there were better times, when he felt the dawn was made for them, and when he was so grateful to rise again. Before there was the chapter closed in his book of life and before the passages were left with the imaginary of lines not so refined. He can see the face before him now, the one that had aged gracefully over the many years yet he can see the pain of a silent scream as it echoes in his ears. His regrets and his fears. The long list of mistakes and the bruises left upon him from where he has been struck by the heavy hand of fate. There are no tears now, just the determination to press on, to find the long lost song he once knew, so he can recall how it felt to be strong. Tiny fractures dance on the hairline splits and the pane is dislodged in this metal rift, shifting like the glacier plates on the icy waters of the pole. And so the mold is broken hard, like the shattered howl of a word whipped on the winds of the unspoken and the reflection crumbles before him and the pieces fall like tinkling sparks of littered snow. He still has so far to go. And so he will return again tomorrow hoping the pane will show him the graceful image of a love restored, where there is no kindred roar, and the mirror shall break no more.



The mirror has two faces. The one that can bee seen by any peering eye and the one that cane be viewed only from within. The mirror has two faces. The image that reveals the shadows of the soul repressed. The face found deeper that the simple skin of a grin.

Thoughts of a Single Man 2012 tm