POETICMOBILITY

Cracked Mirror






As I look into the mirror





and the mirror looks back at me,





I see—





a man that has endured much,





over the years and appears,





at times to be weary—





with a query of unanswered things,





and what life has brought about,





yet could also bring—





the good and bad,





and what lies in between,





with gray as the word of the day,





for black and white tend to,





leave an incomplete story—





for what has; and will come what may,





in this life of mine—





a missing piece within,





but still light in my eyes—





as I approach the mirror,





with the reflection of me,





for on display to some degree,





is the unseen and unspoken—





and a far token to various parts,





that occupy—





my heart and mind,





at times when I’m alone—





nestled in my own thoughts—





and as I take a closer look,





into the cracked mirror—





I observe a much smaller figure,





slightly faded but coming into view,





on approach and nearing my presence,





as if to teach me—





a valuable life lesson,





and finally—





this figure appears,





and I’m shocked; at what I see,





or rather; who I see—





and there within the cracked mirror,





just a few feet away,





clear as day—





as we meet here—





is a little boy with a slight tear,





That dwells inside of me





PM






























poeticmobility






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		8 responses to “Cracked Mirror”	


	

		

		

	


	
    
			
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    Life is so interesting. I am 73. I look back over segments of life at this point. And I shake my head at the ironies of starting where you think you know everything and ending up where you absolutely know you know nothing. But at the same time, you have much to offer those who are still struggling through the segments that you’ve gotten through already. And if you can follow that, you get a gold star! 🌟❤️
    

    


    

    
				
    

				
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    Lovely! Perhaps this poem portrays a universal truth! 
    

    Like it is said that there is a father sleeping inside every little boy, I think there is also inside every grown up man a little boy who never grows older!
    

    


    

    
				
    

				
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