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The Mirror
I look into my mirror
So I can see who I am,
But all I see is myself,
I don't ever see a man.
There stands a sad soul
Who is unhappy with himself,
Who wished that he was different,
As I wish; He was someone else.
I stare into my mirror
As always to myself I softly cry,
I wonder why no one ever hears me
And why in this life must I survive.
I wish that I was different
Though I know that, will never be
It be like the pebble becoming the rock
Or a bush, becoming a tree.
I gaze into my mirror
As I stand there all alone
Why must it be me against the world
Why must I help every one else’s moan.
I then see the fool that I am
He is gazing right back at me,
I know that he will always fail
Because a man, they wont let him be.
I reflect into my mirror
As I see my years come and go,
I know that for me, it will only be me
And for everyone else I must show.
And I know the time will come one day
When my son will make his stand,
And into his mirror I hope when he looks,
Through the help of family and friends, he sees a man.
Randy L. McClave
poem
by
Randy McClave
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