As I looked in the mirror
this afternoon,
I could swear
I saw my father's face
looking back at me;
I didn't know if I should
smile or cry--
smile,
at the man I've become
and am still becoming;
or cry,
at the man who wasn't there
to help me do so;
I chose to neither
as I walked out
of the restroom
with my head held high.
© 2013 Joseph Powell
