I had drawn a face
to stare back at me,
but it is not what I am
nor what I truly need.
But this face,
the masqueraded figure,
that stares back through the mirror,
so seemingly out of place.
It haunts my image,
tends to my deepest fears,
bringing the darkness to light,
followed by such awful tears.
I begin to embrace this stranger,
but a worthy friend, he is not.
A captive of his mind, I am,
leaving me as his prisoner,
a helpless man.
I have now become that face,
the one I had simply drawn in,
now within that once broken mirror,
staring back, back at that
lonely, lonely stranger’s face
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