SignedSierraLynn
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- Aug 10, 2011
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The Wrong Reflection
The eyes she saw in the mirror were green emeralds clashing with the bathrrom light;
Shining brightly, full of esteem, so very beautiful in its own song.
But how could they be hers when her eyes have seen pain and blackness;
Dull and numb, her eyes should be, filled with anguish and wrong.
The smooth, white, color on her skin is flawless clinging to her frame;
Without a blemish, just a single touch would linger on your fingertips.
How could this lie stand before her in the mirror, trying to decieve;
When she knows that the burns inflicted, the scars, she can't forget.
Who is this person staring at her, taking the place of her refection;
The person who is beautiful, lively, and full of hope in her eyes.
She lifts her hand to the mirror, caressing the glass with her finger;
Watching every move the imposter reflection makes and sighs.
This can't be her yet the reflection mimicks her every wink and glide;
But little did she know, it was the beauty and hope she held deep inside.
The eyes she saw in the mirror were green emeralds clashing with the bathrrom light;
Shining brightly, full of esteem, so very beautiful in its own song.
But how could they be hers when her eyes have seen pain and blackness;
Dull and numb, her eyes should be, filled with anguish and wrong.
The smooth, white, color on her skin is flawless clinging to her frame;
Without a blemish, just a single touch would linger on your fingertips.
How could this lie stand before her in the mirror, trying to decieve;
When she knows that the burns inflicted, the scars, she can't forget.
Who is this person staring at her, taking the place of her refection;
The person who is beautiful, lively, and full of hope in her eyes.
She lifts her hand to the mirror, caressing the glass with her finger;
Watching every move the imposter reflection makes and sighs.
This can't be her yet the reflection mimicks her every wink and glide;
But little did she know, it was the beauty and hope she held deep inside.
