The Mirror

I wish there was a mirror,
which told me how I felt,
which showed me my true self,
but then I am afraid,
that if I knew what I was,
would I still love myself?

Mirrors are traders,
they give you what you give them.
Neither less, nor more,
but of some things I am still unsure,
what if the mirror doesn’t reflect the truth?
What if its a shrewd trickster,
swindling around with our images?
Cause what I see in the mirror is not me, I know,
and what I really am, I still hesitate to show.

I wonder whether I will find a true mirror,
reflecting ME,
echoing MY voice.
Though harsh,
but so true.
Though aching,
yet so sweet.
Cause the mirror is reflection of pretence, not thoughts.
It is so untrue and false,
deceives me throughout my life,
gets me back to the start,
to go around again!

I blind myself to my own thirst.
I starve my soul,
Bind my flight,
Curb my voice,
Mould my image,
To fit that mirror!
Oh! That limiting mirror,
unaware of my potential,
ignorant of my choices.

If it’s just that mirror which hold me back,
I refuse to gaze in it.
I reject the need of its approval.
Cause I know that it’s too shallow to gauge my depth.
I pity those who spend their whole life framed in that mirror.
Oh! That limiting mirror…