The Mirror

Before me stands the silent witness,

a quiet frame, cold and clear.

It stares back with steady stillness,

revealing all that I hold near.

Its glass unveils what I keep hidden,

the lines I've carved, both deep and slight.

But often, in its gaze unbidden,

I fail to see my inner light.

I ask aloud, "Who are you truly?

A stranger, or the me I seek?"

Its silence speaks, profoundly, cruelly,

yet in its quiet, it does not deceive.

The mirror shows my darkest shadows,

the scars I buried long ago.

But through the cracks, amidst the shallows,

a gentle gleam begins to glow.

A whisper stirs within its depth,

it sounds like hope, so soft, so near:

"You are enough, as you exist,

let love become your mirror here."

With trembling yet determined stride,

I reach for it—it glows anew.

No judgment now, just peace inside,

a clearer self comes into view.