The Mirror's Unspoken Truth

The old mirror hangs, a silent, knowing eye,
Reflecting faces, through the changing years.
It caught the sparkle of a joyful sigh,
And held the shimmer of unspoken tears.

It saw the morning's hope, the evening's grace,
The subtle shifts of time upon each brow,
The private moments, in this sacred space,
The silent questions, whispered then and now.

It knew the masks we wore, the truths concealed,
The fleeting anger, and the sudden smile,
The quiet sorrows, silently revealed,
Held in its depths, for a brief, precious while.

From childhood wonder, to the lines of age,
It chronicled each transformation's art,
A silent witness on life's turning page,
Reflecting back the secrets of the heart.

It saw the passions, burning fierce and bright,
The gentle tenderness, the soft embrace,
The quiet doubts that flickered in the light,
And every shadow on a troubled face.

This family mirror, ancient, deep, and vast,
A repository of emotions, true and strong,
Reflecting moments, built to truly last,
Where hidden feelings silently belong.

It holds the essence, clear and undefiled,
Of countless lives that gazed within its frame,
A silent confidante, forever mild,
Whispering each unspoken, secret name.

- Khushi Kaul