Perfectly Imperfect Me

I once knew a girl,

Who loved her mirror,

More then anyone else,

In her life.

Every day,

She would stand in front of it,

Wearing fashionable,

And beautiful clothes,

And she would say,

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

Am I pretty at all?”

And the mirror only frowned,

And said to her,

“No.”

So she cried,

Then dried her face,

And went to school.

Everything seemed fine,

Picture Perfect almost,

So no one questioned,

When her clothes started,

To hang off her,

And her eyes sunk into her face,

As she asked,

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

Why do I feel so small?”

The mirror said,

“You are not small,

You are fat,

And big.”

So she cried again,

And went to school,

Wearing baggy clothes,

Because she thought,

That those hid her figure,

And while her fashionable friends laughed,

And everyone stared,

She kept her face to the ground,

And didn’t say a word.

The next time she asked,

Was two weeks later,

When she was wasting away,

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

Who will listen when I call?”

The mirror only said,

“No one. So don’t.”

She didn’t even have,

The feeling to cry,

As she stared with empty eyes,

At the mirror,

Which had dictated,

Her life.

She took a deep breath,

Then another,

Before saying,

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

Why do people stare in the hall?”

The mirror reply was,

“Doesn’t everybody,

Stare at something so ugly?”

Her head was down,

And she didn’t seem,

To have any hope,

As she remembered,

The words her mother,

Once told her,

“Don’t worry about the mirror,

Don’t worry about the looks,

Because people only stare,

When they see something,

Completely beautiful.”

She wondered what,

Her mother would say,

If she saw,

Her daughter now,

And with that thought,

In her mind,

She said,”Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

I don’t believe you anymore.”

She wondered why,

She had failed to realize,

That a mirror,

Twists ones words,

And thoughts,

Just like it spelled,

The words on a piece,

Of paper,

Which she held up,

Backwards.

“I am beautiful.”

But now,

She actually believed it.

When she went,

To school again,

She wore the clothes,

She wanted,

And said,

What she wanted to.

She let her opinions out,

And made better friends,

Her grades rose,

And her spirirt did too,

So now mirror,

Were you correct?

Was she nothing?

No,

“Mirror Mirror on the wall,

I don’t believe you at all.”