Mirror, Mirror, What Do You See In Me?

Mirror, Mirror, What Do You See In Me?

A Poem by Summer Windton
"

This is not a poem, more like a personal "speech", whatever. Contest entry.

"

 

My mirror is the most honest figure in the world. It doesn't lie. It tipically shows who I am. My complexion, my features, the acne that's been on my face for several days now. But it's only a mirror. It only shows what I look like, on the outside.

 

    There isn't a mirror for the heart. Too bad. That's where the good, bad, and downright ugly have their picnics. The outside figure, whether beatuiful or hideous, shows no emotions towards who we really are. Yeah, they give us a nice look at what we look like, but there's no mirror for what we look like on the inside, nothing.

  

   A mirror for the heart. If there was a mirror for the heart, what exactly would you look like? Would you look like the beauty queen you look like in the physical mirror, or a complete troll?

    

    I personally think that mirrors are overrated. Yeah, they sure do help when you can't pinpoint that annoying pimple, but the mirror that we need is the one for the heart. The one that'll show us our pimples, or uneveness or ugliness. 

 

 So what am I when I look in the mirror? A girl with a future, a purpose. But when I look into my heart, I sometimes wonder who am I. Maybe time will tell. Maybe the answer will come to me naturally. Maybe.

 

So I ask: Mirror, Mirror, what do you see in me?  

© 2011 Summer Windton


Author's Note

Summer Windton
contest entry, but feel free to rate.

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gah! so true. the evil queen should never askes the mirror who the fairest is in the land. ooh! put your essay up to the mirror and i bet it'll say its awesome and great! :)

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on September 10, 2011
Last Updated on September 10, 2011
Tags: contest, mirror, see, what, do, you, in, the, mirror.

Author

Summer Windton
Summer Windton

About
I'm like the wind. I come and go. Born of the wind, and I will go back, with the wind. Some write for fortune, some for fame. Some because of grief or envy. I write because it was my destiny. .. more..

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A Poem by Summer Windton