Who in the mirror gazes back at me, reflection of self, earlier times I see? A child at play, his mind unimpaired, with love and trust so openly shared. Then a young man my image portrays, filled with life's zest and carefree new days. No cynicism clouding his view of the world, as emerging promise and hope are unfurled. Slowly, an older form wistfully appears, no longer immune to life's trials and tears. Burdened by self-image and biases' shroud, in step with the vacuous, like minded crowd. Then imagery gradually commences to fade, reflections grown dim, aspirations unmade. An old man with little but memories left, time for self-realization now sadly bereft. Finally, the mirror lies fallen and shattered, as if past profundities in fact, never mattered. Drama played out on earth's temporal stage, in the end, reduced to a turn of life's page.