“Right, ” I said, “I have the key,
To unlock all your melancholy.”
“No, ” he said, “Let it be;
That’s now become a part of me.”
“Well, ” I said, “Let’s try this way,
Tell me some, be as it may.”
“Sure, ” he said, “But I’d like
To know if I’d need a hike.”
“Not at all, ” I said, concerned,
“Your fears are just unearned.”
“Then, ” he said, “What’s to unlock
If you’re not the right doc? ”
“What’s that, ” I said, quite tired;
“Were you not the one I hired? ”
“You, ” he said, “refer to some other entity;
With us, it’s a case of mistaken identity! ”
Now as I look into the mirror,
My Irish blood cries “Wirra! ”
And see life of bliss and worry.
Life’s short, but I’m in no hurry.
20th April 2009
Copyright © SC
Subroto Chatterjee
Subroto Chatterjee
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/man-in-the-mirror-4/
