It all has to have an inception
So let’s start with a question; why do I see me?
Everywhere I look I see who I was, am and want to be
Like I’m walking around with mirrors, mirrors that stare at me blankly
Mirrors that smile, laugh, cry and sometimes thank me
Why do I help these me’s that I see succeed
When I’m at a junction in life waiting to proceed
Am I the only one with these mirrors like my personal storm cloud
Mirrors that if I scream they scream back just as loud?
So while they blankly stare or politely glare
Contradicting the very fabric of what I hold dear,
Reality, or is it my sanity because I appears I’m losing both
But what’s your answer because mine I loathe
Mine sometimes disgust me with the parties it host
Mine always disgust me when it boast
And while no good ever comes from it’s toast
It’s still the best man at weddings for most
I gave you my answer, so what’s yours? Tell me, what do you see?