Mirrors.

I'm a stone,
Sinking deeper into the pools of your eyes.
I'm a tone,
Growing louder the harder I cry.

I keep my mirror clean and friendly,
It's all I can portray.
I wonder, if they looked past my reflection,
What would they say?

Would they see their own reflections
If they broke mine down?
Would they see what they feel
When they wander outside of this town?

Or would they laugh and repent
From the image they see?
An image that I'm sorry to say
Is me.