The Man In The Mirror.
It’s winter and I’m of melancholy air,
Summer, months away leaves me in despair,
Cold indifference abounds, no-one seems to care,
Yes, I know, no-one said life was fair.
The Good Book leaves me painfully aware
That God doesn’t think I’m worth a prayer,
Every night is a dark sleepless nightmare,
A sunny morning countenance, all too rare.
I stand before the bathroom mirror and stare,
Reflecting back is a madman’s maniacal glare,
See the troubled eyes, the twisted tousled hair-
Don’t we two make an unprepossesing pair?
Yet our problems are mine alone to share,
And that depressing bastard isn’t going anywhere,
My fear is if he stays I’ll go completely spare-
Please change the mirror, I don’t care to see him there.