The person looking back at me,

from my mirrors brutal gaze,

Bears no clear resemblance

of my body or my face...

I can't believe I look so old,

my hairs gray, and I'm fat...

How come he's still here I ponder;

he never signed up for that...

I look away disgusted,

with who I've grown to be,

Now I have to be ashamed;

that ugly persons' me...

I'm sorry when he looks my way,

that this is what he sees...

No wonder he keeps his options open,

in case he ever leaves...

I couldnt even blame...