You may not notice at the first glance - The layer of dust is very thin On my mirror.

You can call me lazy

If you want to,

I call it my whim -

The passion that drives me to live.

Not that I stopped looking at myself

Since you left.

If it was to look good

When you were here,

Now its just out of habit.

I see myself on the mirror,

Through the dust of memory too.

A bit blurry, maybe -

Or maybe just my imagination.

Maybe its the well of tears

That makes me see

The imaginary layer of dust is very thin!

~Wrik~