Chuck McCollum

Chuck McCollum

 Los Angeles, California, USA

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The Mirror

Written By: Chuck McCollum

There is a young man, who is charming and bright
And who stands with his whole life before him
Handsome and foolish, strong and polite,
The girls and the ladies adore him
All the girls and the ladies adore him

Now this clever young man full of fire and wine
Sets his foot on the path the world shows him
Fueled by the faith he’ll soon sparkle and shine
In the glory he’s certain God owes him
For such merits he’s clear that God owes him

So while he strays and he flounders, he struts and he flaunts
Owns the world and owns everything in it
Or imagines he does—still, he knows what he wants
At least from minute to minute…

And too prideful to fail, he fails only to try
So his step begins subtly slowing
Days to weeks turn to months, even years may fly by
Oh, but soon he will get himself going
Someday soon he will get himself—if he will let himself,
Soon this young man will get going

For at dinners he’ll toast and he’ll boast of the fame
And the fortune he fancies amassing
But he’ll stare at himself in the morning and sigh,
With the faint distant sound of life’s passing
Him by
Drawing nearer,
Nearer and nearer…
And think, “Who’s that old man in the mirror..?”

His reflection trying to retrace
Every step, every line in his face
Every twist, every turn in the race
From the start
Every bridge burned before it was crossed,
Every choice born of fear, and the cost
To his soul paid in pieces he lost
Of his heart

There is a young man fettered in his own flesh,
If you look very closely you’ll find him
‘Neath the folds of his memories, where wounds remain fresh,
As the mirror just serves to remind him
There he sits with his whole life behind him

And all the dreams that he surely abandoned or purely
Mislaid while he dawdled and tarried;
That remain unfulfilled and still somehow survive,
That don’t die but simply lie buried
Become clearer,
Painfully clearer…
To the haunted gray eyes
In the mirror