Man In The Mirror




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This is a Work of Prose and Poems. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.


Copyright © 2015 by Marvin Amparo Santana

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America



Yesterday, my ghosts came to visit me,

They repeatedly told me of all the times I had failed.

They reminded me of who I used to be.

Yesterday, I took the bus and got off

At a place of Bronx I didn’t know much;

Then I walked back home as my ghosts talked to me,

Reminding me of who I really am,

Telling me who I won’t ever become,

Recounting me of all the loved ones I’ve lost.

So when I came home,

I served them tea.

I thanked them for their visit,

But they wouldn’t leave,

They wouldn’t leave.



I love you.

I dislike you.

I pity you.

I miss you.

I curse you.

I challenge you;

For you I’ve become who I can’t be.

Like flowers, and the seven bees,

Fighting over the roses of Miss Lee,

Hoping the other bees would give up

To finally, let him win.

You, miserable man in the mirror.


I wish I was as free as the waters of the sea.

Free, so free

I wish I was as free as the man who cut my wings.

Free, so free

I wish I was as free as the eagle near La Vie

Free, so free

I wish I was as free as the time when I was a kid.

Free, so free

For the only life worth living is the one

When we are free, or allowed of dreaming

Of one day being set free.


A racist officer who’s backed up by his boss

A child who hasn’t eaten, and it’s already five o’clock

A priest who’s committed more sins than all his nuns

A president who lied us about Alcatraz

A newspaper that’s corrupt

A widow who cries all night

A broken promise

A hopeless heart

An innocent prisoner

A guilty judge

A poor rich man

A rich poor man

A tear on letter

An endless love

A wordless song

An ageless laugh

A mysterious death

That’s all I’ve seen since I woke up


I wish I had a time machine,

I’d go back and tell Martin that it was all a dream.

That I wasn’t tied to chains as my slave ancestor, Deem,

That is all right. And that everything is perfect here.

That the bruise on my face wasn’t made by the police,

He’d be so glad to hear that it’s all perfect here.

That my mom is Love and bad is Spears,

Richest man in here,

So, they don’t knock at my door

When it’s time to find odors

Of an innocent man who

Owns a monkey of dark skin.


She declared war against Vietnam.

She destroyed all the homes in Nam.

She slaves children.

She kills innocent men.

She jails acquitted people,

And praises the guilty ones.

She poisons the tongue,

And murders all love.

She terminates all hope,

And gives no second chance.

She tears down churches,

And always leaves the heart deserted – ready to die.

She doesn’t have humanity,

Nor had she humbleness, or any regard.

She doesn’t believe in justice,

So, she’s bribed the ones who judge

Her name is hatred;

Enemy of everything

We’d ever build and love.


The perfect woman woke up at six.

She cleaned her hear and sipped some tee.

She went to work, and then to shop;

To shop some feelings so she could be

The perfect woman that most want her to be.

Nevertheless, feelings run out

She thus has to buy them weekly,

Before the sun comes out.

Though, one day, the perfect woman woke up at six.

She cleaned her hear and sipped some tee.

She went to work and then to shop;

To shop some feelings so she could be

The imperfect woman she used to be,

For only then felt she was free.

Miss, Ma’am and Missus

She’s been dead for so long,

That she longer remembers the sound of her own voice.

Today, she looked at some odd woman through her window mirror,

She said, “Good morning,” but woman wouldn’t greet her back.

Then she saw her crying a flood of agonizing tears.

She asked, “What’s wrong?” Yet, still, she wouldn’t say a word, filled of tears.

Tired of trying to cheer her up. She asked her for her name,

Then the woman said, “Don’t you see? It’s me.”

So, she looked closer towards the window mirror. It was her reflection, indeed.

She has been dead for so long,

That she longer remembers the sound of her own voice.

She’s been deed for so long,

That she no longer knows what she looks like in the mirror-even her own reflection is to her an odder.


All we need sometimes is a little bit of craziness: To laugh, sing and maybe live.

All we need sometimes is a little bit of craziness, for not to fall into an endless-dark circle of reality.

Last time I was there, I went to a room where I couldn’t see,

There were too many broken promises that blurred my sight, indeed.

I thus could only see a gloomy, lonely man in the mirror.

He was telling me, “All you need, son, it’s a little bit of craziness: To laugh gain, like today will be your last day, to fall in love, like there’s no one else to love again, all you need, sometimes, it’s a little bit of craziness.”

For reality knocked at my door, sat down on my couch and stayed there until I fell asleep. Yet, I remembered the words of the man in the mirror, so I laughed and went out for a drink. I kissed a girl and brought her home, as reality waved at me, but I wouldn’t introduce it to my dear. Since that day, I can only live, when there’s a little bit of a craziness inside of me.


Someone, please operate my soul,

For I am bleeding the worst pain of them all.

Someone, please operate my soul.

It’s not my face, or body that needs an ejection;

It’s my soul that needs some unconditional affection.

Let me be dirty, ugly, or invisible on the outside,

But please, please, clean me in the inside.

Someone, please operate my soul,

For I am bleeding the worst pain of them all.

I thus have been looking for the man in the mirror, though, I longer see him.

He’s disappeared without a note, or “a simple ‘goodbye,’ my love.”


Dear Nation

I hope you’re doing fine

Last time I saw you were crying

Crying unemployment and racism

Crying false arrests and foreign criticism

Dear nation, I hope you’re doing fine

Last time I saw you were fighting

Fighting for a gay marriage, and equality

Fighting for less crime, and for better salaries

Hoping your feeble president would wake up

From the endless dream, he’s always been on

Dear nation, may you hear me for a second?

May you also wake up? From this dream of inertia,

Where we’re missing the fighting, as we’re only crying.

May you please wake up, and

Never ever consider give up?

7, 11, And 12

Today, I didn’t work. I stopped to feel; to feel for the first time in a long time.

For sometimes that’s all I need; to feel again. To fee alive, to feel human once again, full of feelings, hopes and endless dreaming.

For I’ve been trying for so long to be someone else, that I’ve forgotten what it feels to be me.

I’ve been a ghost for long, that I’ve forgotten how it feels to feel alive and free.

Tears, tears kissing my lips and chin as they remind me of my childhood; when I was innocent and felt like I’ve never felt again, free.

I only wonder, would I ever feel as free as I felt when I was seven, eleven and twelve.


Love, have I learnt you weren’t meant for me, I would’ve never spent a single minute trying to find you.


Years are passing by so fast, that I no longer know what day, month, or year it is. I thus purposely forget my birthdays, and let the wrinkles, only the wrinkles, remind me of how old I am; for inside, I’m still a child.


Thank you, for everything you made me want to be.

I fell in love with you, my dear, since the moment

I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was then when I realized that I was meant to be with you, my darling.

I can’t point out what was of you that made me be the person I’ve grown to be.

For the first time, in a long time, I feel alive. And that’s thanks to you, Empire City.


Every time I make a new friends

Every time I fall in love

Every time I get applause

I wonder, would they stay with me when I’m old, and no longer good-looking?

When I am no longer relevant?

Do they like me, or love me for who I really am?

So, when I no longer call them, or write them letters, it just means I’ve found the answer.

For I’ve learnt my beauty is like a fleeting star,

And my knowledge like water in desert’s sand, both destined to leave one day, rapidly and forever.


Once upon a time, an ordinary man wanted to speak with the wisest man on earth. On his seemingly endless search, he met the brightest minds, and heard the deepest thoughts; accompanied by the most flourishing speeches he had ever heard. Nonetheless, he still knew that he had not yet met the wisest man on earth. Tired, he went back home. As he lay gloomily on the couch, his wife glanced at him questionably as she said, “You can’t give up. Stand up, this time I will go with you. I think I know where to find him.”

In a far land, next to a tree, the ordinary man and his wife, met the wisest man on earth. The woman decided not to talk and simply stay away, listening to both men.

The wisest man on earth lay against a small mango tree, which was located in front the sea shore. He said, “Son, I can only answer questions.” The ordinary man tried to make a simple conversation, though, the wise man didn’t say a word. After being tired of talking and being ignored simultaneously, the ordinary man asked, “What is truth?”

“The Truth is painful and rarely what’s expected,” the wise man answered without much sentiment in his words.

Sometimes, when I look at my wife and children, I feel joy and happiness. But sometimes I feel sadness, because of all the pain I know life can bring them. I love them so much. I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt them.

“Sadness is not more than our soul telling us there’s something wrong – something we need to address,” said the wise man.

With a bottle of wine in his hands, drinking as much as one can a sip from a cup, the wise man asked the ordinary man to write all his questions on a piece of paper, for he didn’t have much time for him at the moment. However, he’d try to answer all his questions the following day.

The next day, the ordinary man and his wife when went back to the ocean shore, where the wise man was drinking, next to the same tree. The wise man looked at the ordinary man and said, I’ve read all your questions, here are your answers:


“Please, please, cry an ocean. I thus can boat to your heart, in case you have one.”


“All I know is, that the more I know the less I want to know.”


“For my first love was pure and dreamy, my second far from dreamy, and my third was a bird telling me, ‘Wake up, dear. For you’ve never been in love, my dear.’ ”


Fear is not your worse enemy, you are.


Look yourself in the mirror, and tell me, whose fault is it, yours or the man’s in mirror?


Two things I’ve always been afraid of, me and not having lived at all. Me, for I can be my worse obstacle and my worst enemy, and not having lived at all, for breathing doesn’t necessarily mean you’re living.


Everyone who calls themselves a smart person, is not. For if you were smart then you’d know you’re not really smart.


I wish I could live in my dreams and sleep in my reality

Changing the world:

If you ever want to change the world start by the man in the mirror.


Money will never be enough. Regardless of how much you have, it’ll never be enough. For it hasn’t been money the issue, but the system we’ve created.

Laughter and Life:

Live, live while you have breath. Laugh while you have teeth.


Don’t hate, because from hate and love there’s a very little distance. What one hates today may love passionately tomorrow.


Time will always finish everything it has started, even the universe itself.


Some peoples’ questions are like the man who once tried to make a humongous hole next to the sea to put all the water of the sea inside of it, impossible to contain, and thus impossible to answer. The truth is, there are certain things that are better unknown than known. Every time I look at the stars and realize how little we know, I think that maybe, our lives are so short that trying to know so much could just be a waste of time. And son, it’s not money, diamonds or gold the most precious thing to have, it is time. So don’t waste it.

Friendship, and Family

Love, everything else is a waste of time and emotion.


After speaking to the wisest man on earth, the ordinary man and his woman returned home, they had dinner and fell asleep. They were fatigued due to their long trip. In the morning, happy, like he’d never been before the ordinary man said to his wife, “I love you. Thank you for making my dream come true. Do you think we could go see him again? I really had a great time talking to him”

As she poured herself a cup of coffee as she said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I saw him this morning. He was in our kitchen, didn’t you?”

“What? He came visit us,”

“Yes, he did. He has always lived here. My love, all this time, when I took you to the ocean shore, you were talking to yourself, arguing with your reflection. You’ve been so busy trying to escape from someone you’ve already become, that you no longer know who you really are.”

Man In The Mirror

Prose and Poems

  • Author: Marvin Amparo
  • Published: 2015-09-26 19:50:09
  • Words: 2620
Man In The Mirror Man In The Mirror