Gazing

Gazing in the mirror
And I see my father's eyes
Deep within my own.
I see the dark brown
And the hanging bags.
I see the life and the love.
Yet how different as
We're our own unique men.
His face is much thinner
And I take up after my mother.
I don't see my grandfather's eyes at all this time.
But I hear them, both of them,
In my timbre and tone.