The mirror is the harshest man I've ever met.

He does not barter in lies for some sympathy,

He lives in a world of reality,

False and yet somehow more real than your own,

He does not care what you think,

He does not care about you.

His eyes are sorrow with guilt,

His hair is freedom caged in regret,

His body an outrageous lie that does not reflect the creature inside.

Why does he exist?

A feeling of empathy flows from me,

For unlike me he does not know he is not he,

He is me,

I am me,

The only I that we could be.