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.