The Mirror

The Mirror

A Poem by Brenden Taylor

Why is it that every time I look in the mirror,

I see someone different?

I know it’s essentially me on the other side,

but I can’t help but think

that I’ve changed.

What’s even stranger is that

I can’t monitor this change.

I can’t tell if I’ve progressed, recessed,

gone up, down, left, or right,

sideways, front ways, back ways,

long ways, short ways

high ways, low ways,

good ways, or bad ways.

All I know is that I’m different.

 

When I look at my hair,

I can’t help but think

that it’s supposed to be like it is.

If it’s messy, is it because I didn’t comb it,

or is it because I just haven’t had time

to fix it from working all the time

and trying to make ends meet?

If it’s decent, is it because

I combed it well enough to hold,

or am I trying too hard to give the impression that

nothing’s wrong

and I have no worries in my life,

when during such time I couldn’t be more anxious

over nothing?

 

I consider my eyebrows.

Are they up in excitement?

Are they up in worry?

Are they down in sadness?

Are they down in determination?

I DON’T KNOW!

All I know is that I still have them.

 

Sometimes, I look into my eyes,

almost staring indefinitely

at the green/hazel ambience

that surrounds the black abyss.

It’s an introverted sunburst

with rays shooting from and in every direction

and leading to an inner zero-point.

Does this symbolize me?

Am I so colorful and full of life on the outside

and nothing but a starless night-hole on the inside?

Sometimes I feel like it,

but I know better.

Stars make the night come alive;

the darkness makes the light so much more beautiful.

 

Every time I look in the mirror,

I think of where I’ve been and where I’m going,

but nothing matters more than

where I am.

The past and the future are relative

to my absolute presence.

All background behind me

and all foresight in front of me.

ALL

depend on the what I see in the mirror,

NOW,

and I’m not about to let that down.

© 2011 Brenden Taylor


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

I liked this but at the same time I think there was some holding back. It would be a smashing spoken word, maybe that is a genera that you would feel more relaxed.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Brenden Taylor

10 Years Ago

Hey! Thanks for the feedback. Might I ask what you felt was missing or being held back?
Very good! I love the last stanza of the poem(:

Posted 12 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

157 Views
2 Reviews
Rating
Added on August 23, 2011
Last Updated on October 8, 2011

Author

Brenden Taylor
Brenden Taylor

Shelbyville, TN



About
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Jesus the Christ I am Brenden Taylor. I hope you like what you find here... more..

Writing