To All Who Judge Too Quickly

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I look up at the fogged up mirror
And I see my imperfect reflection
And all the flaws you've pointed out
Stood out in places I can't keep
And all the words you said—
They were all coming back to me

And I say—
I'm imperfect, aren't I?
And you, as well, are
We are flawed in different parts-
And we're all flawed with broken hearts

Slowly, slowly
I fall apart
Because of your quick judgment
Without exploring what's beneath your eyes

Pretty, you say, is something I'm not
Petty may be, though, said by your mouth
How would you know—I curiously ask;
Oh just a guess, that could be a fact.

I walk away and become what you said
A petty girl in fact—said by your friends
And I walk faster
Away and away
From your words that sting
And eyes that glare

And as I look up at the fogged up mirror
I see my imperfect reflection
And all the flaws you've pointed out
stood out in places I can't keep
And all the words you said—
They were all coming back to me.

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