I suppose now, as I sit and look back,
It wasn't weakness or what I lacked,
But who I was, or thought I should be,
That was what kept me, from being me.
I would sit and tick the clocks life away,
Laughing as it died a bit more each day.
But one time while glaring at its mirrored face,
I saw a stranger, in a vaguely familiar place.
And shocked was I, when I came to see,
The stranger in the mirror,
That stranger,
Was me.
