Many days I sit
And look at the bevel in the mirror
Thinking that my age
Is to share with the edge
And it’s clear
That my mere character says
Don’t let the mirror
Play into my fear
I wonder what my age
Will look like some day
And let it take away dismay
And bring with it
Comfort of sharing my
Heart with a bevel
Meeting my eye
To deceive the true colors
Of something so untouched as
My pride.
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