Mirrors

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I’ve heard memories change each time you recall them, as if each is a set of two facing mirrors where both panes have sprinkled in artistic license. It reminds me a bit of history,
I’ve heard memories change each time you recall them, as if each is a set of two facing mirrors where both panes have sprinkled in artistic license. It reminds me a bit of history,
Fearing a transparent man-made tool of vanity A tool who hides nothing This tool shows you who you truly are Some may say that you are more than your reflection
“Love yourself before you love others. You can’t love a man Until you love what’s in the mirror” We were told this by our mothers. Few took this and ran, But the rest didn’t even consider  
Careful, don't stare.   It isn't you in there. Don't look at the fatal imperfections, they aren't really there either.   It's an illusion, its not made to show you the truth.  
Red eyes Black hair Tan scarred skin It holds The appearances Of me, But is it me? I cannot be sure Whether it is  Just a fear of mine Or an actual part Of me
Cast away the fire throw away the flame are you growing tired? feel nothing but the pain place it on the pyre  your demons are to blame mirrors are reminders of the beast you cannot tame
Sometimes the hardest thing Is to look in the mirror To face the broken smile The empty blue eyes That once held the oceans.
I always joke about impressions and lie that I don't heed. But when camera snaps goes off, it's the fortieth picture I keep. So there goes my humility. Good-bye shame.
Reflection The most important of actions  The mirrors have it mastered  Replicated image captured  Their faces face others  Their eyes eyed by their pupils  But behind the glass burns a fire 
The cold hard stare   The never changing pace   Separated by glass forever face to face
Their are so many mirrors in the world,
A silver-backed glass staring back
if a mirror was placed before you and you cast your gaze upon it, what would you see? if the reflection that comes back is not yourself,
Looking at yourself, seeing someone else It’s how it always is, how it’ll always be Is this who you are on the outside? It’s so different from the inside . . . So misleading
Smears, smudges hide my face In the dusty reflections of the mirror  With shaking hands I can place  The nose, the hair, the eyes But in a glimpse they're chased  From my tentative tries
I AM   Like being surrounded by mirrors on all sides                                      I can bask in the site of myself from all directions                     
What is it like to be me? She asks  Envy lining her words. She's talking about the test That I aced The quiz I defeated The teacher Who loves me. I laugh and smile and joke at her
Everyone you meet - the ones that you avoid- these people are your reflection. See yourself as they see you, Would you be welcomed or Rejected.
There’s this girl in the mirror… And she’s beautiful.
I’m no Cinderella Never lost a glass slipper Never got prince charming I’m no Cinderella Always felt strange Faraway Slipping away Always felt strange
A facade I hide behindBehind a happy personIs a voice wish to speakA way for to let it outIs through a writing verse
Sabrina Petroski 110-86-7165   Eyes open feet slide off the bed and touch the cold floor step after to she carries herself
Sitting in your mind. All alone. Your refuge from the world.   But what are those? Shining brightly in the dark. The mirrors.   Gazing into them you see not 
Mirroring an image society has given, To be our own individual, Don't listen to what others say. Yet we criticize others,
He played me like a cello soft and sweet   until the finale.   The high notes whined and the low notes dragged on, on, on.   The finale was agonizing.  
It seems to me that mirrors never give an honest reflection of a person.
Distort, lie, and amplify.   They show us the center,and hide the edges.The center is framed,by the rest,that is compressed.  
what if there were no mirrors and she didn't turn on the television mesmerized by fluttering fake eyelashes and airbrushed cheekbones on cloud nine she wouldn't touch her reflection
Mirrors, we are mirrors I worry, she panics
Don't look at me like that, i know what I'm doing is wrong. it's not like it's something i have to do it's just something i do you wouldn't understand.   I know i look different I am different. 
Behind my bedroom door, I hear screaming and fighting; Someone always ends up crying. They try and hide it, But from were I sit, It gets louder, and louder; Overwhelming my ears.
Tell me.                                     Who do you see? When I look in the mirror...        Who looks back at me? Who should I see?                   Who am I really?
I am living in a mirror, I can never measure up. I am stuck inside this world of reflection, I can only see myself. The outside world is very dim,  just only a faded picture.
Little girls are barbie's, little girls are sweet, little girls are perfect,and taught to be neat. Taught to be skinny, and pretty, and fair. Taught to have beautiful, long locks of hair.
Another glance into the mirror Another day, another year A coarse example of the person Who is hiding under there
Her mirror belongs in a carnival, a wrong distorted image of what she looks like. She'll try to bend herself to make that reflection look perfect. Cut down what is eaten until it resembles the remnants of a forest.
Mirror, Mirror, on the wall. Make me pretty, thin, and tall. Who is fairest of us all? When will Beauty finally fall? Paint my face and Dye my hair, Then will someone truly care?
I wish Just once I could look in the mirror And not Want To Scream. All I ever see Is that thing in the mirror That everyone says Is me.
My only friend across the glass knows who I truly am. With no questions asked, she does as I do mimicking every dance, every glance.
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