Lies

The mirror lies. It sees the flab, the gut, the blemishes. It can't see the inner beauty, the knowledge, the depth, the soul, the spirit, the heart.

The calendar lies. It sees the inexorable march of time, a clock winding down to zero someday. It can't see the kid, the child, skipping and hopping through life, sticking its tongue out in defiance.

They can't see.

You can.