I’ve looked, day in day out, following his progress
Years of checking each and every inch
Some good, some bad, all in the same mirror
Looking for change and finding none, then finding too much
Happiness foiled by truth and certainty
Brush strokes from a God that have become very unflattering
I’ve looked and I’ve looked, and I’m sure that’s not him

Similarities to the past, seen in pictures alone
Images spread across a mind that craves perfection
Each dent, each spot, each blemish, discarded with the utmost contempt
Arriving at one conclusion supported by undisputable evidence
Yesterday having gone and tomorrow arriving all too soon
Certain that face might one day come back
Looking again and again, convinced that’s not him

Double take, triple take, too many takes to count
Each one, just confirmation of time outrunning conceit
And then, just today, the day of all days, submission
Realization that this must be him and him alone
Standing open mouthed with a closed mind and a very mild grin
Seeing only the worst of the best and the rest of the worst
That’s not him, it’s really not him, but truthfully it really is