Your image lingers over me
to tell how beautiful it is
but it is not,
you ask me questions
without uttering a word,
i stand still to let you
reach your answers by yourself,
while i'm quiet since ages
and you thought that
your calling was my answer.
no my dear,
i am the mirror
and I've chosen not to speak,
i am no one to tell you
what you are,
and how you look,
you're not genuine,
pretty, sobre, happy,
or any other adjective
you are just you,
and that's all i can tell.
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