Mirrors

Yet again I wake up to this dummy World-
Full of mirrors that say without a word,
So when I pass by the narrow lane,
I can see my image from foot to mane.

Some show me stout,
Some show me too tall,
Almost like the funny ones in the circus, I recall..
Then there are some that find me dramatic,
Some tell me I am a wide-mouth,
And then there are others, at me they shout
For what I wore,
Or to where I head,
They always try to show me 'the way' in stead.

Then there are some that show me so puny,
That before them, I feel like a looney .
Coz these are the ones who suppress to be above all,
Always looking down on others, in the fear to fall.
And this is their fear that created the reflection in stead..

Coz now I know it's not me who's stout
Nor tiny,
Nor a wide-mouth!
But the blemish in themselves that  made up the faux and how!

Coz I have a few ones whose images I can trust.
That always show me the right one..no matter what else I lust.
Coz when I am culpable, they show me my dark
And when I am capable they show me my way to embark.
Coz these handful are my North and South,
No matter if the mirrors call me tiny or whiny or a wide-mouth!