DEAD MEN

A free verse poem. About what looks back from the mirror.

When I look into a mirror dead men stare back at me. Normally I look away, but today I held this stranger’s gaze and reflected in the imperfections of his face I saw...

A kid, carefree, and kind became fatally afflicted with the knowledge of mortality. The family brought to their knees; he displayed a façade of strength that still stands where the silhouette of a scared child silently surrendered to reality.

A soldier confused yet confident brought to an alien land of swirling and shifting sands, his young heart foiled by foolish unrequited infatuation that led to isolation in a personally constructed prison of emotional barriers where he served out his self-inflicted sentence of solitude.

A scientist. A writer. An actor. A lover. An old man. Not just those who were but so many who would have been, these men were laid low by failure and consequence before they were ever allowed to stand.

The stranger, sunken eyes, pitted scars, and broken stained teeth perfectly represent past mistakes. I wish I knew how he would inevitably bring about his own demise. I wish I could warn him about all the knives I have thrown in his back, the traps, and pitfalls I have placed in his path. He will fall and only then will I know what could have saved him.

When I look into a mirror all I see are dead men.