We all strive to be such a thing,
Beautiful. 

But we look in the mirror, 
We study our image,
It becomes more flawed, 
We are eaten alive by our desire, beauty.

What is beauty?
Why do we crave to be what is undefined?
Our own definitions cloud our mind.

Our perfect imperfections,
Become more subtle,
A positive self-image soon drifts away.

Why is this idea imprinted in our brains?
What changes as we grow? 
I'm not quite sure but please tell me if you know, 
We strive to be something unknown.

As if the make-up will change us, 
It will bring us to life, 
As if we all fit into a criteria to be defined.

Beauty used to be Adam and Eve, 
But since then this world has twisted and turned, 
It has been rearranged.

Girls and boys glance into the mirror, 
Few are pleased with what they see.
Displeased with your hair and how it lays,
The color of your eyes, how you wish they were green,
Your stature of sorts,
You want to be taller, shorter, skinner, thicker. 
And once you are, you still won't be pleased.

You glance up into the mirror,
It becomes harder to point out your beauty.
Your image is like a ship,
It is slowly sinking.

Than it shatters,
It crashes and you can hear the glass hit the floor,
Is the mirror really gone?
Or just your self-image?