| General Poetry
posted March 6, 2018
The mirror is too blind to see,
that reflection is not really me.
It sees an old decrepit face,
the real me has so much more grace.
I do not trust this painted veil,
as it can’t tell a truthful tale.
All this plain looking glass can do,
is show the years that can accrue.
But when the sun shines on the glass,
my mirror squints and is aghast,
It realises its mistake,
blinded, thinks this image fake.
I look now when the sun is strong,
so that the image isn’t wrong,
There I am in all my glory,
the glass now tells a different story.
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