Woman in the Mirror

Thursdays are my long days and depending on the work week and the commute sometimes I feel tired.  That's less the case today.  Despite the cold rain falling-- so cold my glasses steamed up when I climbed inside the autumn yet-to-be-heated bus-- there was warmth between the walls.  One wise person guided us to this lovely poem. 

The Guy in the Glass


by Dale Wimbrow, (c) 1934

When you get what you want in your struggle for self,
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass,
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life,
Is the one staring back from the glass.

You may be like Jack Horner and chisel a plum,
And think you're a wonderful guy,
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum,
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please never mind all the rest,
For he's with you clear up to the end,
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may get what you want down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears,
If you've cheated the man in the glass.