Mirror, Mirror

"Who's the fairest?" They all ask. Deciding can be quite the task. Primping, smudging, popping pimples. Her hair is frizzy, oh but such cute dimples! Not him, not her, Oh and God not him. Did you see his crepey mole-rat skin? Her behind takes up my whole frame. You, Stop making faces! This is an audition, not a funhouse game. When you stand before me I'm ready to critique Every pore and ill-placed highlight streak. Some leave with a grin, soft hair, skin clear. Some leave without being able to hold back tears. I may be harsh, but I tell no lies. My judgements come with a much-sought prize. Who is beautiful and who is not; A truth, an honor, that can't be bought. So step beneath my vanity lights, What I show could bring you confidence, delight! But I'm also ready to show you a great shame, Because I know you'll be back, Again and again.