Through The Glass
When my reflection walks away on the other side of the mirror what does he do?
Does he walk around and to the same things as me, only backwards?
Does he have a backwards car and a backwards wife?
Does he go to a backwards job and live a backwards life?
All the words are in reverse.
All the worlds are in reverse.
This world is spinning the opposite direction.
This reality slamming down gives pause for reflection.
It’s a miracle we don’t run into each other more often.
We visit many of the same places, but seldom look at each other.
Because the man I see in there is a stranger.
He lives with my wife and children, but his thoughts are not mine.
When he walks away he leaves a sense of danger.
A sense of disappointment.
A sense of anger.
In his world does he call himself a hero?
In his world are his parents proud?
Did he provide a loving life for his wife and children?
Or is he more like me?
And think himself a zero.