Left behind, she said
It’s on your left behind
And I, twisting over shoulder
In the mirror could not find
Its on your left behind she said
and I damn near broke my neck
what's left behind in the mirror
in reality is right
Not really right in the righteous sense
But quite right all the same
not really wrong in the real wrong sense
But borderline and tense
While she just lay there laughing
I'm a modest man God knows
but I don't like being pointed at
when I'm not wearing any clothes
Now if we had two mirrors
we could try triangulation
but as things stood the biggest risk
was naked strangulation
At times like this I really wish
We’d played another game
because this is getting silly
And I know who’s to blame
Whatever it was I’ll never know
it remains a mystery
And if its worth another look
I’ll have to wait and see
Sean Joyce
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/left-behind-2/
