Doppelganger

A Quarter century of existance, or more

a past mostly mired in smokes and shadows

trying to remember the days gone by

not a single memory; well, this blows.

Friends come, and friends go

some slip away quitely , some not so

Love trying to find a foothold

on the slippery slopes of heart's hold.

Amongst all this brouhaha of life

the face in the mirror keeps a vigil

The only constant in this strife

my master, my mentor, my very own pupil.

It speaks to me in hushed tones

pouring down bitter truths where no one can

In my ears, my sinews, my very bones

do the right thing; be a man.

It never tries to please me

with honey-dripped words mired in lies

You are, but a man, it pleas, with

greying hair, wrinkles, and tired eyes.

Many a times, the voice gets lost

in the cacaphony of world's cries

But I know, it's always there somewhere

waiting for me to battle out those lies.

All my flaws, wart and all

staring at me throgh the shiny wall

A bitter pill, extracting its terrible toll

but like all bitter pills, good, cleansing the soul.

In these moments of clarity, I see you and realise

I'm my best when on my own

It's you and me all the way, my Doppelganger

A life best lived alone.