The Mind Of The Mirror Poem by nisha dyrene

I am put on hold
I am made to wait, wait, and wait
I have become something
I fear to look upon

I have fallen
.
.
.
Far

I am a long way from home

I am lost
Somewhere in the depths of myself
Where I weep and weep and weep
With dry eyes
And wet eyes
In turns

An old jalopy
Ol faithful
Ol reliable
Predictable
Perhaps unremarkable

I am no beauty
I know.
And my face has become a reflection
Of another’s

My eyes are magic
That turns the weak into giants
My strength built
From pains past
Is a bulwark
From storms

I am useful
I know

When my term is done
I will be left behind
For better things
Shiny and new
That fit better

This also I know

All this I know
And live.