Monday, April 16, 2012

Prisoner of the Mirror

I never thought a piece of glass--two dimensioned
could hold my entire being.
Don't I have three?
Maybe more, says H.G. Wells.

Push chest out, stomach in;
narrow eyes--wish self away.

If only
i had brown eyes....
if only
i were taller....
or maybe shorter....
if only
i were ever thinner!

or recently,
if only
i were younger....

Those gray hairs can be dyed.
Dim the light--
i can almost pretend
away laugh lines.

Oscar Wilde was right.

When i was young i wished i were pretty
wasting what looks i had.

The glass looks on mockingly.
A cruel moon to my tainted sun.
Who can break me out?

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