Change
mirrors lie every day
a warped portrayal of familiarity
built on tiny fragments
a sum greater than its parts
significant
only to me
setting apart who i see
and who others assume me to be
history lies too
a dimming hallway of selves
constantly shifting and melting
as narratives of past
form
a present
not meant to last
i don’t recognize myself how strange to have the me that is familiar now be so foreign to the me that was then i find myself wondering when the die will be cast and i will recognize the mirror as truth teller history as a friend as i move toward a welcome close and life’s end
-rrf
Comments