If a photo catches the soul
And the window to it are the eyes,
Then what is left in the mirror
When a reflection gets caught in its light?
We find ourselves stuck there
Searching for a potential that we crave.

How our world loves the grey and beige, it craves
The bland, dulls down the soul
Until all that’s left there
Are unblinking eyes
Abused and blinded by blue light
From a technological black mirror.

Yet what was used to make mirrors
Was mercury, the liquid metal, so now it craves
The movement that would only pause to hold light,
To paint the soul,
Beholden to the apple of our eye.
A reflection can only match what is there.

A body is sixty per cent water, there
Is liquid staring at liquid in the mirror,
While we cannot always see it in our eyes
We know what it is this liquid craves,
We know what happens in our soul
When something is left from the light.

When water has no light,
When it stops moving, it goes stagnant there,
When humans stop moving, we go stagnant in our soul.
The colour of a mirror
Is a subtle green tinge, we crave
The colour of life to be reflected in our eyes.

The colour of our eyes
Which match the very earth of night and day light.
All we know is to crave,
To yearn, the unobtainable ‘out there’,
The grass is greener in someone else’s mirror,
And tastier when we’re told how to buy and sell our soul.

One day, I hope the light of the sun reaches your eyes,
I hope you can gaze onto the world and find mirrored there,
The unrestricted life your soul craves.