Looking in the mirror


I saw Fear clearly.
He was weak, sickly and thin.
He turned and spinelessly looked away
I looked for hope in his face
But then I saw his pale skin, and empty, fearful eyes.
And I heard him whisper pleadingly, “Let me go”
I realized fear was a coward
I wanted to be done with his hurt, and I replied,
“Gladly.”
I turned away from my mirror.

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when I look in the mirror I'm done looking at what's not really there