A little tweak to the imagination and we're off on a flyer to another dimension and all without leaving the comfort of home.

The mirror looks at me as if it wants to fight me
I put my hands up in surrender,

funnily enough
I knew someone called Surender
a Sikh from the Punjab
which is just an aside
to fill up this poem
because now I'm fed up
and want a coffee.

The End.