My Face in the Mirror

I stand before the silver glass,

A thousand shadows seem to pass,

The eyes I see are mine, yet not—

They whisper truths I had forgot.

The lines that trace along my skin,

Are stories etched of loss and sin,

Of laughter, love, of nights alone,

Of battles fought, of seeds once sown.

Behind the stare, a child still hides,

With broken dreams and teary tides,

Yet in the gleam, I see the flame,

That still survives, that bears my name.

The mirror doesn’t lie or bend,

It shows the foe, it shows the friend,

It holds the past, the present near,

And all the scars that brought me here.

I do not flinch, I do not turn,

For every mark is what I’ve earned,

My face, my truth, both fierce and clear—

I find myself each time I peer.

So let the world distort its guise,

I’ll meet my soul within these eyes,

For in the mirror, I embrace,

The fleeting, timeless, human face.