This man in the mirror

This man in the mirror,
is me and yet, not me.
He is not me. He is yet to be me.
He stares back like he knows me,
I look at him like he's got it all wrong.
He thinks he is me.
He smiles like he's me.
He moves like he's me.
His eyes look like mine,
His everything too.
But he is not me.
This man in the mirror is not me.
He is me in the mirror.
The me now, the now me.
That'll be gone when I,
tighten my tie up, as he,
tie my shoelaces, as he,
adjust my smile, as he,
and step away,
leaving him behind.
This man in the mirror is me,
but won't be me when I leave.
For when I come back,
this man in the mirror,
will be a different me.
So he is not me.
Me is yet to be me.
He is yet to be at the level of me.
I am me, he is, but just,
this man in the mirror.