The Mirror

A mirror has the ability to make a duplicate of one's self.
It isn't a true copy but a near shadow of who one really is.
For a mirror can only show so much, and often it leaves out the core of who one is.
Forming an image of one's armour, but not of one's character.
When I look in a mirror I see a nose that radiates intelligense.
For isn't it the nose that brings pictures and feelings together?
I see eyes that are large and keen; their gaze sharp and piercing, like a knife cutting butter.
I see a mouth that seems wise but secretive, hiding a treasure that is best kept locked away.
I see the treasure which the mouth wishes to be hidden.
For it can be a poison that eats away at one's being, reaching the deepest corners of one's soul.
At other times, it can be a healing salve that spreads from one's heart down to one's fingertips, like a river flows into the oceans.
This treasure can become a coiled snake but also a fluttering butterfly.
This treasure that can taste sour like vinegar or sweet like honey is none other than the two-sided sword which all man carries, the tongue.

This poem is about: 
My community

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741