when you never paused to ask yourself

in the reflection of narcissist flood water,
every fear of failure you ever harbored lays on the surface,
staring back in at your baggy sleep thirsty skin,
we all wonder how we got this far,
and why we've got no gold to show for the days we've toiled

the land sprouts when spring grows nigh,
like my old mind when i learn new words,
the choked green turned yellow and dirty,
while the gutters catch the glycol and sand patches

but in the mirror of small straight river ditches,
carrying another boat to the lonely anchor points,
we drift into the middle of nothing,
only staring at that reflection in the flood water,
the faces,
of the strangers,
that we've become