Look into the Mirror

Assume the body, to be a cloak,
A cloth made from material mock,
Enveloping the inner being,
From all the substantial sheen,
And yet,
Where does the shame lie?
Why has the truthfulness gone dry?
Before you point a finger at me,
Stand in front of that glistening mirror,
And see,
Are you what you want me to be?

(c) S.S





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