The Stranger in the Mirror

(How do strangers climb into mirrors?)


I looked in the mirror – and what a surprise
The image that stared back – caused quite a few sighs
The strange apparition – was me … I surmise?
With flesh hanging like covers over my frame
My ears still protruded (‘least they’d stayed the same!)
The eyes were now milky – and squinted a lot
The skin once so silky had now gone to pot!

The hair I’d been proud of – in fact rather vain
Straggly and struggling – had once been a mane
Sunspots and blemishes – midst varicose veins
The one tooth remaining was worn – was weathered
Thank God that it was still firmly tethered
The parchment skin with creases – no! … fissures!
It damaged so easily – was it made of tissues?

I stared at the face – ‘twas a stranger for sure
‘Twas actually quite scary – yet I could not ignore
The likeness to me that this stranger bore
The clothes were ill-fitting – she’d grown a few parts
Thank God it’s a mirror – or I’d even hear farts
A new double chin – and an ugly old wart
Be she stranger or friend – she makes me distraught


Article By Henry Spencer