Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who's the fairest one of all?
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
tell me—how do I stand tall
in the face of those who seem to think
my worth is written only on my skin.
I don't care what you've been through;
it's never okay to make someone feel beneath you.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I don't care to be the fairest one of all.
What good is fairness if it comes at a cost?
What good does it do me if it means lines crossed,
shrinking a little more every day
just to try and end the argument.
I don't need the kind of fair that makes me feel small.
I don't want the kind of fair that leaves scars under skin.
I don't need that kind of fair in order to win.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I'm not defined by the fairness of my skin.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I choose to be defined by what lies within.
So mirror, mirror on the wall,
I'm the wildest of them all.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
I'm the messiest of them all—
because I don't need to fit the mould
in order to stand tall.
YOU ARE READING
Through hell and back
PoetryThere's a tingling in my fingers. Humming in my head. a thousand ideas just waiting to be read. the page is blank, and the possibilities are endless. - Queen_of_Dead118 Hi! and welcome to my poetry book. First I'd like to dedicate this book to som...
