Reflections of life

looking in the mirror
deep into the past
flashing scenes of memory
always gone too fast. . .

the mirror of the mind
impossible to drape
always sending images
we wish we could escape. . .

painful thoughts we push aside
and hope they soon will pass
but the mirror will not shatter
it is not made of glass. . .

the mirror of the mind
made of days, and months, and years
will someday fade and blur
washed clean by lonely tears. . .

2003