The stranger in the mirror

Every once when I gaze at this piece of glass.
It’s just for seconds that the impression lasts...

This time, when I kept staring at me, 
a stranger in the mirror is all I could see.

The realism as always is bitter to accept, 
that I’ve become nothing except

nothing except all that was me
a stranger in the mirror is all I can see...

The End

9 comments about this poem Feed