Before the mirror, I stand and see,
A child marked by scars you left.
These marks are yours, yet here he bleeds,
While your wounds heal, his still plead.
In restless nights, he’s haunted by pain,
While you find peace, free from the strain.
As I stand at this mirror hatred reflects in the glass so clear,
For the man you shaped, standing here.
The man gazes at you with silent remorse,
While the child looks on, gripped by fear
The man too old to voice his plight,
The child too young to grasp the night.
In silent echoes, their stories lie,
Bound together, forever asking why.
Lost in a world where shadows confide,
Where innocence was stolen, and trust denied.
A testament to what was taken away,
And the silent screams that still replay.
Though words may falter, and voices fade,
The mirror holds the truths they’ve laid.
A witness to the pain endured,
In its depths, their bond secured
Before the mirror I stand and see,
me
— Anonymous