Prose            in a mirror,         words     in a trap.
Reflecting,      and refracting            as in a war.
Oh                                                          ­          no!
Stanzas                appear                  backwards,
Eve­n though     their meanings are     the same.

I gaze                  upon                        my graffiti
Not aware                of the irony               within.

All at once,           as if        I had            dyslexia,

My mind                  began                       to hum.
In the mirror,           my poem                    and I
Right was left                    and left was the other.
Reading aloud was difficult, yet made me hear,
Of the meaning                           in my scenario.
Reflecting,                    one can see in the mirror.


*Double Acrostic: Starting and ending each line with the letters that spell the title of the poem.