I had a talk with the
Shadow of a Shadow--
The girl on the other
Side of the old mirror
That sits in the attic bedroom
All dusty and ignorable.   

Her eyes were not like mine,
Her skin a different color.  
Her head thought backwards,
And that mouth shot challenges  
From a distant Wonderland
Not meant for me.  

Try this--
Hold a pane of glass before
It's brother.  The specter in the mirror
Peers back in an endless bouncing
Prism of light and crystal music
You think you should hear but never do.  

Then speak its name--you'll know it.
I did.  It was my name twisted and
Warped from misuse and repetition,
The feeders and eaters of current affairs
And the colorless now that modern will become.

It won't speak out loud--mine never did.  
But she moved her lips in a
Mockery of speech, in a rendition of
The daily grumble I pull so hard to
Block out.  

Maybe yours will talk to you.  
But if it does--don't listen.  
All you'll hear are lies.