Mirror

What’s silver and shows us our vessels?

What’s silver and knows not our depth?

What’s silver and often misunderstood-?

For it has a secret well kept.

What’s silver and often accused

Of shallow perception and ruthless honesty?

What’s silver and often charged

For its flawed insight and superficiality?

Who is this culprit we believe we know,

That we claim is silver for it appears so?

Yet here we claim to see beyond

 The superficial—what an irony, though!

What’s silver and shows us its vessel?

What’s silver whose depth is unseen-?

By eyes that claim flawless profundity,

What’s silver but shades of green?


Copyrighted by Delilah Das