On reflection
On reflection, I cannot say
why I look in that mirror every day
with an old fool looking back at me
instead of the youngster I'd like to be
he brushes his teeth when I brush mine
and combs his hair, but thats just fine
he never smiles unless I do
so I just grimace and he does too
but I have a look, every morning and night
to make sure he's there, and he's still alright
though I often wonder what he thinks of me
when he's stuck in that mirror, and I am free