The poem I wrote.

I look in the mirror,

but what do I see?

It’s nothing much,

just a poor reflection of me.

That person staring back,

Doesn’t have a name.

Just this insane ability,

To make me feel ugly.

I can’t help but wonder,

How did she get so beautiful?

Who is she?

Who am I?


Yeah, I wrote that. Brownie points to the person who can tear it apart and give me a detailed meaning.

This entry was posted in Girl-ness. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Connect with:

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>