All around

Things to see

In them work, art work

Textured as a sculpture

Sharp edges carved

Blended with a brush

Vivacious as a photograph

Something to write a book about

Yet in me,

Nothing

In my reflection

The work of art is the mirror

Man made yet found in nature

In the rivers and ponds,

Streams and oceans

Perhaps at some point

I was art

A mirror,

Man made

But a reflection

Nothing of my own

Now I am nothing

Every time I look in the mirror

My eyes, more sunken

The shaded windows to the tar pit in my soul

The darkness ever growing

Evermore encapsulating

Consuming

When I look in the mirror

I see

NOTHING.