The Broken Mirror

I looked at the cracked mirror wondering what had happened to it,
I started to panic a little because I knew it came with no repair kit,
Old fingerprints where touch had stained; like scars,
It had seen so many moments overlooking from afar,
I stared and stared and nothing changed,
But suddenly my focus shifted and what I saw wasn't the mirror anymore,
It was me. 
Through each shard a broken smile,
A thousand different versions from strong to fragile,
I thought how funny it was that in a way the mirror had just multiplied, 
And yet all I could see were the flaws no matter how hard I tried,
I picked up the pieces and tried not to think about it for a while,
But it was so hard to because I missed the way it was before,
Before I had to discard of the pieces shattered on the floor,
I guess as people started to use and neglect it that it got damaged,
And after some time it just couldn't cope; couldn't manage...
So it cracked.
What astonishes me is how it continued to fulfill it's purpose,
It carried on reflecting my smile through the cracks on its surface.