Words Written On The Back Of A Mirror

I begged, "Review for me the images of my past."
You show no more than the present.
I asked, "How much longer can this feature last?"
Might each fresh faced tomorrow seem so pleasant?

Relentlessly you trace along each laughter line,
Heartlessly and so sardonically grinning
Overhead the sands of Fear pour through
The brittle, green stick underpinning.

My questions thus are met with wide deflection.
Considered, then truthfully returned out right.
Oh, looking glass! Your broadest cruel reflection -
Must to-day be turned around and hid from sight.