Sometimes I wonder what happened to me. I step from the shower the truth’s there to see. It’s frightening, so scary, Mr. Mirror doesn’t lie. Can I be this ruined? Has life passed me by? My face, God it’s puffy, my color so ruddy. The veins on my cheeks, tiny lines reddish ugly. They’re roadmaps to nowhere, to a nothing I fear. For when nothing is mine there’s no laughter just tears. Look! My hair when it’s wet is dark like before. But the towel makes it dry now its gray gives me more of a reason to wonder what happened to me. Is this growing old? Is this truth I won’t see? Now my old green eyes stare back with reproach. Once they sparkled with challenge, spirit and hope. Now they’re hooded, so tired. Could this be defeat? I know not, I hope not, for my heart it still beats. It screams as it beats, with a cry to be known. It demands to be nurtured, to become fully grown. For this heart is a seedbed, the loam of my soul and the spirit can’t ripen when time seeks its toll. As the towel dries my body I see fish belly white. My stomach protrudes, my God what a sight. I question. I marvel. What happened to me? Has time lost this child and his dreams that would be? Ah well what the hell the world turns with no key. And perhaps in the end it’s much better for me. To know of the truth this mirror gives with no glee. To stare at my image, lean closer to see. I’ll whisper my question --- Again? --- Hopefully? Mr. Mirror won’t you tell me --- What happened to me?