Old Man In The Mirror

A poem by me.

I looked in the mirror in a MacDonald's bathroom

It was so startling, I said, "Well, call me a shroom!

That face in the mirror is not mine, oh, no,

It can't be, 'cause I'm not that putrid and low,

It must be a smudge or a pic someone took,

then plastered there, 'cause I've got much better looks!"

 

I went to the counter, and said to the lady,

"You're mirrors are wrong, have you cleaned them up lately?

That guy in the mirror, he just can't be me,

it's some weird mistake, please come, come and see!"

 

The lady (whose name, by the way, was Amanda)

said, "In the men's room? Well sorry I can't, uh,

but Harry, he can, cause, well sir, he's a guy.

Can't promise we'll fix it, but really, we'll try."

 

I then asked Amanda where Harry might be,

she pointed to a guy standing right next to me.

"Ya need me?" he asked in a slightly bored way.

"You've just got to help me," I said, "Please?"

"Okay."

 

I dragged him back into the men's room toot sweet,

and said, "There's a problem, but I know it's not me,

the face in the mirror's just so incorrect!

That dude isn't me cause I'm no weird redneck!"

 

Harry just looked from the mirror to me.

Then said, "Sir, I'm sorry, I must disagree.

That mirror's correct, yes it is, can't you see."

He gave me a small looking glass and said, "Here,

Please sir, look again - you're that man in the mirror!"

 

I couldn't believe that it might just be me,

that guy in the mirror, as gross as can be,

he's old and decrepit, and wrinkled so bad,

like the hairball my cat, Little Whiskers, just had.

 

My life turned from doing okay to so weird

It turns out my looks were far worse than I feared-

I'm wrinkled, decrepit and creaky, look here,

You see that guy, right? He is me in the mirror.

Reviews

[Simphonia Hale]

profound.