Life in the Mirror
That's me in the mirror
those broken bits of face
without a smile.
That's an empty room behind me
where my parents used to live
when the candle used to dance
on its frightened cake.
But I'd rather forget.
Nothing is perfect.
We are always missing bits,
broken bits,
smashed away.
What I could have been if...
What I would have been if...
What I would be if...
Who I would have married if...
What would I have seen if...
Where would I have gone if...
What could I have done
or acheived
if I'd believed or been believed
in the world in the mirror
in the pool of the morningtime
of life.