That’s Not Him

While celebrating a birthday this past week, I met a guy I thought I knew. Perhaps I was wrong.

That’s Not Him

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

 

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