I do not look at me
In the mirror much these days.
This bald pate,
This fleshy, swarthy face
Except to brush teeth
And the vexing necessity to shave.
I do not see me in the mirror
Just the yellowing teeth
And the graying stubble.
I do not need a mirror anymore
Having seen me for
Half a century and more.
I know me well enough.
But the occasional glimpse -
When my eyes meet my eyes-
Tired, watery, dead -
He asks me silently, ‘Why?
Why did you let life
Slip away?’
*****************
Balachandran,
This one left a lump in my throat. A solid lump choking something...Beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteNo choking and lump in the throat for me -after knowing you. Ha !
ReplyDeletethe "narcissist" painting can be gifted to our aniyan.sree@gmail.com
ha ha !!!
keep the pen active anyway.
Bye Anil
@anil: :D
ReplyDelete