Cracks in the mirror

Little tiny cracks that form
On the mirrors on the wall
Broken reflections through I see
None of them really quite me

Broken souls, broken lives
Something's just not quite right
Painted over with neoprene
The little cracks now barely seen

I see faces, I see dreams
I see ash and dust and seams
Seams with naught but held together
By mere threads that barely linger

And even now the threads do quiver
As Life bends its little finger
Ripping apart the painted masks
Exposed and terrified thus, alas

Then the moment passes, and the cracks are gone
Gaping wounds close with time's endless song
But the scars never really heal, do they?
Everyone's broken in some way.