Looking in the mirror, all we can be,
the clouded imagine staring back, see.
Weight of the world, upon the shoulders.
Pulling you down, trapped by boulders.
Fog shrouds selflove, the picture unclear.
Not worthy, hallow, empty save fear.
Image distorted, a truth we believe,
No other perspective, self-deceive.
Clean this reflection, can’t see the way,
No way to reach, stretch as one may.
Eyes close for a moment, hands touch a wall,
Another soul is reached, troubled glass all.
They see a clouded mirror, we see them true.
It does not reflect but is a corrupted view.
Scratch at the lies, see what you ought to,
But it doesn’t get clean, whatever we do.
Defeat, despair creeps in, we turn back and gaze.
Bewilderment, mines closer, revels a new glaze.
A truth sets in, as a new knowledge dawns,
An image begins to emerge, something new spawns.
We can’t change the sight, of what others reflect,
But can work on our own, when it’s suspect.
Our own clouded view, doesn’t begin to part,
Until we see ourselves, with our own heart.
Fix each other, impossible, it doesn’t come clean.
To ourselves, we must, stop being internally mean.
All the mirrors are cloudy, I see yours is too.
You will never see you, as I can see you.
But I know I tear myself down, and right on que,
“The image is dirty; please see you like I do.”
I know now the mirror, is not what I should see,
But the only ones that can change it, just we.
Swipe at the mirror, in reach now, we can’t let it be.
It was always close enough, so take time to clean me.
Experiments in Poetry by Zachary 