Everyone thinks I am at their will, I stand still just for them to stare back at me. Some faces I see are disgusted and some others and never satisfied but I'll say there's a share of those who can't stop looking. They put me in various places all over to serve them because in their I was put there because of them. I do their every bidding but what they don't know is that I control them. They go along their days and look at me every minute while I can either make them feel good or bad, they check what's wrong and if I want I'll make them look like they're the most beautiful thing but I'd much rather let them see themselves as worse. Now everyone around you won't stop talking about it, so really.... what am I?
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If you haven't guess it, it's a mirror
Now a question: What do you do in the mirror?
Admire
Disgusted
Satisfied
YOU ARE READING
What am I?
PoetryTo be or not to be? That is the question. I make you think of me and soon you want to know. Each part will have a clue in the title but this isn't any old guessing game, it's one that leads a story with each I choose. Remember if it may be an objec...
