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Face the Mirror

Face the Mirror 
 
Cool, crisp, clear, refreshing 
 
Water runs down my chin; I look up 
 
Dense steam, but a face I see 
 
Piercing eyes, a flat stare 
 
  
 
What is this? I know not that face 
 
Vaguely familiar, certainly not my own 
 
Hollow cheeks, saddened lips, dead. 
 
A splash once more, the face remains 
 
  
 
It looks to me; pleading, gazing 
 
I can't help you, not knowing what to do 
 
You're on your own; I'm a busy man 
 
Turning away, it shakes its head  
 
  
 
Compelled I turn back, to see 
 
The hollow shell placed before me 
 
The solemn eyes puncturing my mask 
 
Stripping, pealing, cutting my essence 
 
  
 
Shuddering, no this can't be! 
 
I try to plead, this court is closed 
 
The face changes, one of surprise 
 
Tis not a clone, but the face my own. 
 
  
 
                                      - D. C.