Coming to a mirror image,

Dull is my thinking that age;

From the site of my being,

To my impure seems.

 

No thus wonder of the disagreement;

Just a plain material on the side,

That from the day and night,

Deeply in me, they both reside.

 

Affirming the sensation,

A fear of not fit in;

Fake trues where told,

That the world acclaims to be.

 

Society’s standards at its deepest,

Sets up the general rule,

That for one self-acceptance,

Some lies must be use.

 

However, when I see my reflection;

I don’t see whom I expected;

Instead, I see a single statement ;
a simple comment to myself.

 

This thought that ran wild through my head;

That a ‘me’ with no defects ,
is, and will not be me at all.

Why would I lie in something as basic as ‘I’?

 

If I want my existence to be remember,

My life as I was,
then I have to show myself,
just the way am I.

 

I’ll go around with a snap,

One that reflects both good and bad,

I’ll show the world about my presence

All that with a “#No Filter” at all.