What sits in the mirror is a reflection that taunts us,

A false image of a tiny part of us ever changing it flickers and flaunters.

While a reflection of what humans are truly capable of sits in the other mirror known as the Television,

A reflection of human ingenuity; creativity; love and a propensity for world demolition.

That’s what resides behind the eyes when we stand or sit to watch ourselves or glimpse a possible future,

But what is the mirror itself? A question always rebutted. Here is what I was to find my mind did define and culture.

A symbolic barrier at the edge of two consciousnesses found,

One knowing the answers that the other needs this time around.

But who is who,

And which is which?

So, the trick is to trick our minds,

So that both questions and answers may find,

A place to reside,

Within the barriers of space and time.

As it appears to be,

If which is which we cannot see,

Then already won have we.

Between positive and negative electricity now does glow,

A north and a south – two attracting poles,

A fleeting up, and a dwelling down,

But what’s lost can be found.

Both parts are necessary, and all can see that it shows,

Peace has always been entering through gentle breeze blows.

Love regenerated as if foretold,

Love captured on mountain peaks covered in snows.

Love warming the earth as the sun rises then rolls,

Love ever lasts us and we always knew everyone knows.

The day come’s when we can fight the mirror no more, if it says we are nasty, then nasty we are,

If it says we are beautiful, then beauty we hold, and their beauty has set the bar.

Whatever form the mirror takes that day, a brother, a sister,

A bother; a blister.

We are all inherently the same in this way,

So, whatever they say,

That will be what we are today.

For we are only human; and whatever words are breathed into us, we have no choice but to hold,

And now we are not even allowed to fold.

We fear saying the words on our lips, as we fear they need to be perfect,

Even though the words of today were designed by someone far away in another times dialect.

Most of us only seem to say words on someone else’s lips and claim them as their own,

For we don’t want any longer to feel forever alone.

It is the end of endings, profoundly sad, but intensely happy too,

As we know now the fight is now someone else’s choice to lose, how rude.

And we watch them in their turmoil, even though we know what they have conquered,

They just can’t see it yet, well wow, that’s just bonkers.