I look at the face
staring back at me
as I search,
this hideous canvas
and laugh at the joke
the gods have played
on this poor fool,
I cry tears of pitty
for this hopeless soul
for he is the shame of society
I smile,
because of the way he still looks proud,
despite his predicament
he still can smile back
I fume at the way he grins
and enjoy how angry he gets,
seeing my rage,
and then I turn my head
and walk away from the mirror
asking myself the same old question
"Is the mirror made to reflect,
or am I made to be reflected?"
