Introduction

It happens every morning and I'm not sure that I like it.

WHO HE?

I look in the mirror
And what do I see?
A sad mirror image,
A wrong-way-round me,

Can't think of a method
That strikes me as sound,
To change what I see there
To be right-way-round.

I look in the mirror
To check what I see
And I get to thinking
That it just ain't me.

I reach for the razor,
We're locked eye to eye.
If no-one else offers,
I'll shave this old guy.

Copyright; Joe Pamanian