Mirror?

What is a mirror if not a mirror?
Is it a thick haze
That almost obscures everything except the glaze
That is the tears coating your eyes?

Scars and wounds tell a tale
With a certain charm
That never seems to be honest.
And what was in the moment
The greatest feat with danger and harm
You'd rather just be modest?

Pain
And torture
And physical stress
And a never ending battle to do your best
Is all forgotten because you got through it.

The mirror doesn't reflect
But projects
As all the pain rushes back at your face
You'd rather just look away.

The mirror doesn't show truth,
Not much at all,
When remembering harder times.
But instead
It's you who tells the truth
And you understand
All the labor.

Is the mirror really a mirror
If it can't show you reality?