You can tell me: <br />'Well, it's a face..? ' <br /> <br />'But, whose...I'm not <br />so sure? ' <br /> <br />Your reflection <br />smiles awkwardly <br /> <br />as if embarassed <br />it should know <br /> <br />...the you...of you. <br /> <br />A mirror caught <br />in another mirror <br /> <br />traps your words <br /> <br />leaving you stranded <br />in a dimension <br /> <br />other <br />than here. <br /> <br />() . <br /> <br />Your beauiful <br />caligraphy <br /> <br />falter...then.. fails <br /> <br /> <br />your hand <br /> <br />lost in the wilderness <br /> <br />of a page <br /> <br />the words <br />losing their minds <br /> <br />script degenerates <br />to gibberish <br /> <br />you become only <br />footsteps in the snow <br /> <br />a chill Alzhiemer's wind <br /> <br />cries through <br />the ruins of you <br /> <br />your face <br />in the mirror <br /> <br />more real <br />than the real <br /> <br />...you?<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/only-footsteps-in-the-snow-for-lyn/
