I stood in front of a mirror
I stood there everyday
Yet I never felt nearer
Not even halfway
My sight never became clearer
The vision would breakaway
Had my memory turned into an Alzheimer?
That mirror turned me into a throwaway
I thought me and that mirror were dimer
Had I truly been a stowaway?
Nothing but the primer for the abuser…
But I became the absorber of the accusor
I would ask away
"OK" was the response of the mirror-agitator