Who are you, standing in the mirror?
Who might you be - silent one?
Are you just an illusion, fibre of mind?
Or is this image as real as flesh?
Were you the one in the corner of my conscious,
Waiting, waiting, and waiting.
Did you walk down the path of sorrow by my side?
Did you ever shed a tear for me?
Did you ever, ever, lend a gentle hand?
If you left, you'll be missed, but that's all I can say.
After all, how much could one miss oneself in the past?