Standing still as stone,
Looking into cold, hard surface,
Smooth as water with no ripples,
The silver surface shines,
He looks into the watery mirror,
Reality shines out of it,
Slowly he runs his hand over it,
The surface is cold and slippery,
His reality shines out to him,
In moments hes lost his temper,
He brings his hand back,
The slams his fist into the mirror,
Shards of glass spray out at him,
Cuts spread across his hand and arm,
Shards of glass embedded in his face,
As the shattered pieces fall,
His reality is shattered,
No longer trapped by the mirrors gaze,
His reality is now broken and shattered,
He looks out upon another reality,
Broken pieces being put together,
Shattered and broken speared across the floor,
He looks up again at the mirror,
He smiled, looks down at his cut, battered hand,
Shards of broken glass sticking out,
Blood seeping from the wounds,
He has shattered the false reality.
