Mirror, Mirror.

When I look in the mirror sometimes I see who I hope that I am. I can never be too sure. What do I really look like? Who am I really? I could always lie to myself and make myself be who I want to be. I can never realy know who or what I am. I can't even trust what other people tell me because I could be deaf to the truth.

But sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of my true self and I'm taken aback because it's never what I expect. I could be better. I could be worse.

 

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No, there's nothing wrong with me.

All I am is what you see.

If you can't see me,

Is there something wrong with me?

Or is there something wrong with you?

If you can't see me,

Am I anything at all?

What does it mean?

That I'm but a dream.

Not really there,

Just floating like air.

That's all.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In response to a poem by Justin H.

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