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THE PERSON IN THE MIRROR.

I'm sick of this person I see in the mirror.

Every day she stares at me.

I want something new, something exciting.

That is the person I want to be.



I'm sick of this creeping, haunting image.

It's beginning to take over me.

I need some space, I need some air.

I need a place where I can breathe.



You look, you stare,

You haunt, you glare.

I need to get away from you.

Sometimes you scare me half to death.



It really is too bad I'm you.

I'm going now.

Good bye my friend.

I have to say, I've reached the end.



I've thought about this for quite a while.

And now I leave you with a smile.

Death has come, it has it's ways.

We'll meet again another day.



You looked, you stared,

You haunted, you glared.

I had to get away from you.

At times you scared me half to death.

Thank God I am no longer you.