Half of a mirror
I have a mirror in the hall it is cracked
two mirrors in one but prefer the left part
see an elderly face in peace with self
Not the peace of death, but of one who has lived well.
The right part is altogether different
A face old before its time
I'm not a Dorian Grey my sins is not of excesses,
but rather of frugality and perpetual boredom
A sour face that has absorbed every perceived slight
that oozes out through loathsome pores.

Too much to bear I will remove the right part and
keep the part that makes me looking friendly  
even if it is not telling the whole truth which is
not needed now that truth is for the naïve