A blind girl asked a passer by "what's the color of the Danube River?"
The passer by looked from the gray and dirty waters to the expectant face of the blind girl and said,
"Blue, dear girl, it is blue"

Tired eyes are looking back at me
with that look predators have at night
when the weak howls with primal fears
and shadows fly with the wind passing by.

The face, the face of a man looking beyond
as he is approaching his hundred years of life,
with a secret hiding in every and each wrinkle
but no one of them was made because he smiled.

His soul has wandered through many lands
and yet, no place could be named home, light
switched off by many a cruelty of warring men
and childhood forgotten because he never had one.

What can you say to your mirror, now, today,
asking for it to show the truth or begging for a lie?
your eyes are seeing what it’s not there, not anymore,
because the real you to the truth, today, doesn’t apply.

Glass covered by silver and yet in upheaval
for showing your old face after one too many cries,
a sailor, a soldier, a tunnel rat and many other things,
mirror, mirror on the wall, please, can you give me a lie?