My mirror is broken, or at least it seems to be,
for today I discovered an old man staring back at me.
The face I recognized,
But he had hair of gray, and there were wrinkles around the eyes.
I waved. I rubbed the mirror with my sleeve.
No matter what I tried, he simply wouldn't leave.
This can't be me, I thought. I am much more svelte.
Just look at the way the belly hangs over his belt!
I also thought it was very queer.
The hair stopped growing atop his head and was growing out of each ear!
Who was this imposter, and what is he doing there,
this man of age with silver in his hair?
Why is my mirror doing this to me?
Having this old man staring back at me?
We fight we struggle
We kick and scream
Please let us back in
And wake us
If one name is but a glimpse of their soul
Then we are simple machines on cruise control<
My Friend, You Know How Precious You Are To Me
Did I tell you I love you?
Did I tell you I care?
Did I tell you I'm happy
<You are my love, my life, and my queen.
You possess all the love, care, and hope that I w
Of all the things I've ever said,
Of all the tears I've ever shed,
Of all the thi
I light a torch and hold it high
It shines so bright it lights the sky
You see th
Listen to my heart as it screams your name.
Look into my eyes as you fix the pain.
<That's not my age; it's just not true.
My heart is young; the time just flew.
A little bit of laughter,
A little bit of tears,
A little bit of happiness,
This is your time
to no longer be who you were,
to rise from the embers,
