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The Truth is in the Mirror He looks into the mirror hanging on the wall, what he sees is the shadow of a man, who once stood tall. Bent, broken, gray and old, now he worries about the salvation of his soul. Oh, where, oh where did those golden days go? Only yesterday it seems, he came home from that Asian war. Now he lives in the past more and more. Life has slipped by, he wonders how and why? If only he could beg, borrow or steal a little more time. Maybe he could start life over, and make it rhyme. Yet he knows the reflection he’s seeing is the last image of his mortal being. The truth is in the mirror. |
Additional Notes:
This poem is dedicated to a special generation of people. They know who they are.
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