The Manipulative Mirror
Every morning was the same
I woke to the same name
I dressed and stressed
In front of the manipulative mirror
I looked down and frowned
Then looked at the mirror and sobbed
For I did not see who I am
But rather, a plus sized me
Reflected in this manipulative mirror
I grabbed a sweater,
that thankfully covered my abundant curves
But, that sweater did not cover all the nerves
from that depressing scene.
But empowered me to be the best I can be.
All this from that manipulative mirror, I see.
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