Why must you judge me so, dear mirror?
Where be your confidence?
You’ll get it.
You’ll smash it.
When something you need is in your grip
but like a spanner in a greased hand
And words fail to manifest
amongst the face to face,
Clutching for dear life, the paper
to end this stagnant strife,
will this mansion of which I step
become as binding as a dear wife?
Give me this break.
I will not forsake this chance
to fulfil my dreams.
Let achievement be the start
of the next verse.