THE WOMAN IN THE MIRROR.

I
looked in the mirror one day and saw a woman

She couldn’t’ tell me who she was .

Was she, her mother’s daughter?

Or
the niece of her great grand aunt?

I
observed her a bit more closely,

Her face looked, so familiar!

For sure, our paths must have crossed at one time.

Was she, her sister’s sister?

Or
the neighbor woman who feed pigeons at each crack of dawn?

I
kept staring at the mirror, pondering on who this woman was.

Her body wasn’t very attractive

A
bit too bulky for my taste; it even had a few scars.

Melancholic stricken tears, ran down from her big brown eyes.

I
reached out to the reflection wanting to kiss those tears goodbye,

but before I could even attempt to comfort her.

She needed to tell me who she was.

Was she, the Mrs. of Mr. X?

The employee in such and such place,

or
the person at the hair salon, who always tipped and smiled,

no
matter what she ended up looking like?

The woman in the mirror was not talking,

only the tears kept flowing  

It
was as if she no longer could speak.

Raising my voice to the Heavens I asked:

Dear God, would you help me find her individuality?

I
was eager to offer my assistance; and intrigued to say the very least.

Why can’t this woman in the mirror tell me any of her dreams?

It
was a puzzling situation; one very hard to believe

A woman in the mirror cries for help,

but tells no one the reason of her weeps.

I
guess it was not easy for her to tell; you see.

She has no real personality

by
trying to please everyone else, she lost herself in the midst.

When time moved on, and everyone was gone,

The woman found herself alone.

She had no friends to call of her own

Nor a genuine love, to lean or care for.

She learned to endured the feeling of loneliness

threatening her own existence.

She was trapped within the boundaries of a mirror

A
mere facade of something called a woman…

Can you picture her despair?

Could you imagine just being there?

It
sounds almost pathetic

I
had to help her.

It
was essential.

I
pray exceptionally hard,

Begging the Heavens for her very existence to make an entrance.

Suddenly the reflection in the mirror changed

And a tiny little spark began unveiling from her beautiful eyes.

I
reached out and grabbed her hands very tight,

Then pulled her out of the mirror, where she has kept herself buried alive.

 I
kissed and hugged the beautiful woman, one thousand and more times.

Telling her it was perfectly fine to be just whom she was.

It
is not easy; I said.

Sometimes is very hard.

But one thing is imperative

Happiness comes by being who you are.

 I
love you; she responded,

and her reflection in the mirror faded away.

She then entered my body, where l truly hopes she will stay.

Wisdom defeats misconceptions

Knowledge conquers any myth

That woman once inside the mirror turned out to be really me. 

So
while I love, care, and comfort this newfound person

and with the help of God teach her to take control of her life.

I
find loneliness scary and my new life at times very hard,

but nothing remotely compares to the nightmare

of
being trapped alive inside the mirror of life . . .