when I looked in the mirror who is wrong?
all it feels strange
but what it's all true?
what the dirty clothes can be clean?
maybe someone else can receive that color?
or those who do not understand?
or whether just me the less understand?
new version:
When my heart asks, "Who is wrong?"
And I gaze into the mirror, "Who is wrong?"
All feels so strange, yet,
Is any of it truly real?
Can the dirty clothes ever be clean?
Perhaps another might bear that stain,
Or those who do not understand?
Or is it just I who fail to comprehend?