Mostly I am left standing, looking down.
Yellow-green cattail stalks obscure my view.
The water here is murky,
While you look in your mirror,
In love with what you see,
Nothing but grief looks back at me.
Rippling water mars my visage.
Eyes bright, now dull, now bright,
Frown deepens, then dances away,
Lightly sets, darkens my brow.
Emotions are registered, bounced back,
Clearly this dirty water sees the real me.
True, Narcissus was content with loving only himself
In a rippling pool of clear blue.
On the edge of Mud Pond;
Not much to love except memories of you.
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