bwg poem – Miles in the Mirror

bwg mirror

I look into a mirror and I do not see me.
I sit and stare for a mile in the mirror,
fishing for myself.

Rarely, am I lucky and come up
with what I am looking for.
Truth is, I have gone undercover
on a mission deep within
the recesses of my body.
For, I too, am looking for me.

If you catch me looking hard at a mirror,
I am not in deep thought,
thinking about how I look,
if my face is too round, my skin too brown.
Nor am I in a trance repeating my imperfections.
At those moments, when a mirror is before me
I am remembering me.

If you catch me at such a time,
carry me to water, redress my wounds.
With a smile send me back in.

Lots of files to go through,
lots of paper to peruse.
Finding you will take time.

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