Mirror, mirror on my wall,
every glance I do appall.
My conscience tears through my wit,
chasing sanity to its fit.
Interlaced with grace and charm,
these habits mask conscious alarm.
Once delusions are unleashed,
they trample and choke facts unseen.
Alas I sigh at this note,
where fear and shame stick to my coat.
A worn mind I bid adieu,
a tattered fragment must make-do.