In the glass of a storefront I catch a strange gaze

In the glass of a storefront, I catch a strange gaze,

years weave through cracks, time's unforgiving maze.

A friend says I’ve changed, as if shifting like sand,

this face in the mirror feels less like my hand.

A portrait of moments—past laughter and tears,

who I’ve been fading, unearthing old fears.

With a smile that feels foreign, yet hauntingly near,

I wonder what stories my reflection holds dear.