Reflection (An Original Poem)

I turn to join the world of men—

I know I'll see that girl again.

To me she is a constant friend.

When I approach, she’s there again.

She seems to know what I’ve been through.

Her face it shares that she’s there, too.

I see her sigh, but then she smiles,

And I feel weak to speak of trials.

This pretty girl seems nice enough.

Her smiles boast of friendly stuff.

I wait for her to share her name.

I read her lips and mine’s the same.

Her eyes are blue; they look like sky.

And with me she is never shy.

Her hair looks soft, her features sweet.

To be with her is such a treat.

I reach for her; she does the same.

I call to her. She says my name.

Her hands are ice—I pull away

And she agrees, to my dismay.

She turns to leave; I start to cry.

She follows suit without a sigh.

But when I smile with practiced tact,

Her lips turn up, and she grins back.