The Mirror Is Not Me
A curtain the shade of a mirrored room
Covers the face that my soul expresses.
With the colors and shades of the ones around me,
I become what they want me to be.
The cover will splash down like a crashing wave;
My true form will be known.
A face of an angel, a face that I love,
Is the least of what I am made of.
Behind my mask is a girl.
She is a girl that secretly tries so hard.
Hard to get that spotlight, the time.
None of it matters since she does not whine.
I am a girl that knows her information.
The girl that is smart but not perfect.
I am a girl that can relate to everyone around
No matter the type of person surrounds.
Inside, I do not believe in sympathy, but
I do believe in empathy.
I cannot lament over what one can lose
Until I put myself in their shoes.
I am that one girl that is in the corner
But in the right time, place, and moment,
I will come out into the light and dance
On the rays of the sun in my trance.
Inside, I am complex, and I am structured.
I do not change for those who wish to change me.
I am individualized and own the keys to the locks
Of the generalized, stereotyped box.
I do not belong in a box with others,
Who are supposedly just like me in one way or another.
Not a single person is me, nor am I them.
Therefore, no can subjugate me nor condemn.
Nobody is perfect and neither am I.
I am a girl of flaws, with worries like everyone else.
That is the only box I will be put into.
I am more than what one look will ever tell you.