Mist of Me

Is this me I see before me in the mirror?
Or a watered down reflection of who I was
Has the one who had the heart to do the right thing
Died the death of betrayal
Is there a spark of me left?
Or have I reached that path of no U turns

I look closer

My nose touches the glass
And I wonder if the one I was can see me
Like a reverse Alice in Wonderland
Are they banging on the glass
Trying to get me to believe I still am them?
Or are they to busy enjoying?

You died a long time ago
I say to the invisible attention seeker
That holds my memories of childhood
But have no answers to give me of their whereabouts
C. S. Lewis’s doorway is shut to me now
And Aslan is just a stuffed toy

Can we go back and not taint the past?
Or will we bring into it our own adult insecurities
That children learn from us
And by doing so act as terrorists of their future
Destroying great mysteries that they have lived by
And fairytales they have dreamed

Dare we return to a time of true innocence?
And in so doing become that which we fear
The end product of the philosophy
The innocent that is at peace with themselves
Or do we live in our mist of nihilism
Safe in our own little world of self-pity

Why fix it if it ain’t broke?
Why bother if you’re happy in your hollow?
Even Doubting Thomas’s get a wake up call
When will I?
Just not yet though, not yet….