How the Mirror Lies

The mirror is cruel; it says trues filled with lies.
I lie to the mirror, and it lies back to me.
I smile in my saddest hours and it smiles back.
My relationship with it is partly vanity and need.
I try to use it simply to check on things;
I like to make sure my nostrils are clean,
And is also good to know food is not stuck in my teeth.
But in true honesty, once eye contact is made,
The image on the mirror confirms I change every day.
Gray hair, wrinkles, and other imperfections show,
It confirms my beauty is vanishing every single day.
But the mirror is at a great disadvantage
because it cannot feel or judge the things it cannot see.
I am perfect for the hand life dealt to me.
The mirror feels lonely as I walk away,
For it will never be able to reflect the secrets of my soul.

Beatriz (c) 05 29, 2013

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About B. Meza

Writing is liberating.
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