i look at the mirror
and all i can see
is a fragment, a ghost
of the person i used to be
the windows to the soul
are empty and vacant
reflecting feelings
so close to the heart
yet so distant
dark circles appear
where there used to be none
evidence of rivers
of tears shed
when the day is done
laughter is muted
the lips are pursed tight
and though there is no frown
neither is there a trace
of joy or delight
the mirror reflects
the same ears, nose, eyes
the same body and face
but the person,
i no longer recognize
trapped inside
this shell i don't know
are the broken pieces
of a heart
that refuses to let go
desperately clinging
to a particular goal:
that one day soon
this poor lost soul
will again be made whole
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