He looks in the mirror and sees a bastard.
He sees someone who didn’t appreciate the loved ones in his life.
He sees someone who doesn’t know the detail in the leaves.
He’s consumed by greed; he’s drunk off of fantasies.
No blemishes are crossing his forehead or traveling past his arched nose, but regret lives in his eyes.
A smile is painted on with broken promises, no word spoken with the truth.
He’s sorry five years too late, and if he won a million dollars, no one would care.
A tombstone waiting for its moment to shine; a woman’s only child doesn’t know his father’s alive.
He didn’t have time to look in the mirror to see nobody there. One thing he does see is redemption.
He can’t glue the cracks together and create the same picture, but he can make sure it doesn’t crack again.
Time is a healer, but loss is a teacher, telling you to find land that you’re proud to stand on.
He can plant trees of forgiveness that never feel the breeze, but the work behind his watering can help him still grow.
He looks in the mirror and sees someone free.
He looks in the mirror and sees me.