Reflections

The mirror reflects what it wants to see

The seasons change into who they want to be

Colors shift as feelings erode

The pavement cracks as black turns to road

The lush is pale and the dry is rich

Nature has a funny way of choosing which

Grow in the sun but wither without

Bloom at night and dry in the drought

It's written right here; why dont you look?

I've written enough to publish a book

But the mirror will reflect what alwasy will be

But everytime I look, I never see me.