Beholden

I see her standing, looking

Not liking what she must see

Yet no matter what I tell her

The mirror speaks louder than me

It can't hear her voice or laughter

It doesn't understand her pain

It hasn't held her curves or softness

Its flat surface renders them plain

It has no depth to hold her feelings,

No way to say it cares

There's no judgement in its surface

Only saddened, earnest stares

If I could take away its power

And draw away her face

Let my eyes reflect her beauty

And my words describe her grace

Would it paint a better picture?

Or will she only ever see

The empty shell around the soul

Who means everything to me?