Point your fingers,
anywhere but on the mirror,
"you are the reason''.
The true reason, for a while,
can be hidden in your closet
with other skeletons for company.
Together they will silence him,
and truth shall be a latecomer again.
But someday all the reasons
would collide among themselves,
and fly swiftly past your
and shatter your own mirror.
The closets will be thrown open,
and the skeletons will have the last laugh,
watching your distorted figure,
reflected in the shattered crystals,
scattered across the floor.