Just a little something I wrote today in a way I used to long ago. Some events clearly have put me thinking one of them being a fairy tail and the other was my Music box Ballerina. Who also happen to be one of my favourites little stories. So without any more rambling I give you,
Everytime I am someone else, never looking the same. A brunette, blonde, a red haired beauty or a teenager with one of the many rainbow colours. I have been many faces women an men and not one liked me for what I looked like.
Only a hand full of smiles have passed me by.
Just looking alike I could never show them what they intended to see. I was like them, lacking to show their soul. My eyes frowning an lips pulled to a corner I slip in something else, an never my own choice. My will is taken and can only be you or someone else.
I like being the tiny ones, all dressed up and having fun. Dancing and singing, pulling silly faces and having a laugh. But it always end with a shout or a tear and hanging heads. I do what I can but my touch does not reach when my face is pulled our of shape to remove the lipstick.
Fun times sad times I happen to go through all, but no one there to help or hold me. Sure there are those who grew up and kiss me with passion but I wonder if it is me they like? Yeah I been many faces. Eyes of happy or sad, young and old.
Always changing never myself I am always around. Knowing I can shine an break very easily. Don’t hate me for what I am or for reasons I cannot comprehend, I can only be the beauty that is you for I am your mirror.
Always remember my words when you look straight at me.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Tell me mirror, tell me all. Mirror, mirror I know, you will show the prettiest one I have to love above all.”
And so we end a story about loving who we are and what we look like. It may not be perfect or according to the magazines around us, but we are pretty in our own ways.