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A poem about the reflection of one's inner self. |
| The reflection in the mirror, is as Beguiling as a distorted image at a Carnival—for the image I see is not The same image gazing back at me. There is no beauty on the surface, Like a flower in full bloom. The petals once lively and vibrant, Are now dull, lifeless, and lost. The longing to be meager, Feasts away at my thoughts. Like a swift cheetah sprinting the Grasslands after its prey. The burden to conform, relies Heavily on the reflections seen On the outside—when the only Reflection worthy, is deep within. |