In the mirro

October 12, 2009
Standing in the mirror, but who do I see. I see a very handsome young man looking at me. This is not a poem, I hope you can see. This is just me talking about me. I wake up in the morning then start to cry. Then ask myself. Why? Why it had to be I. Living with the people who tell lies. Wiping the tears from my eyes.

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