Mirror, mirror, upon my wall.

Tell me is this even me at all. 

You have no choice but to show my reflection.

Show me this and I'll pick out a new imperfection.

So, what will I do today?

Maybe a little makeup here, and little bit there, but what do you say?

Did i cover the bruise? How about this blemish?

Is the scar gone? I'm so tired of this daily skimish.



How do i look, my dear, mirror?


Or worse?

You're right. 

I will always look the same.

Until I change. 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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