Last time I looked in the mirror,
I mean really looked (this was months ago),
I saw a hollow man,
A mere outline of a human being,
Wearing the countenance of a guilty fellow.
I could not keep watching for fear
I might believe the image in the glass
To be a true reflection of me,
And who would want that?
So I broke the connection with my likeness.
I think, for a mere moment, I saw what others saw
And was displeased, to say the least, that
I was less than who I intended to be
When I grew up.
I was certain, actually, that I had not grown up;
Rather, I was stunted, somehow underdeveloped;
A half-baked imbecile whose only legacy