The mirror
So prim and proper,
Held the ghastly reflection
Of a young girl
Within its very glass.

Captivating her
She stared long and hard,
Not able to find
The supposed similarities
She was destined to have.
She was unable to see
the characteristics
Displayed in front of her
In the deceiving light

All she saw
Was merely the face of a girl
With brown hair
And matching eyes
Filled with disappointment

But it is just a shard of glass
That was showing her
If she’s the perfect model
Of society’s idea
Of beautiful

She began to wonder:
If you see yourself
Really see your true self,
What difference does a broken mirror make?

Because through those cracks
She found herself
Conflicted
Listening to those around her
Who have grown prone
To depending on the
Tainted idealism of perfection
For which they were
So desperately
Seeking clarity

It soon became obvious
We all have eyes
for a reason right?

Surely it must be the same reason
For why
In the absence of the mirror
That is constantly
revealing the image
Of our external shell
That humanity could finally see
The beating heart
Behind the so-called Image

We were never meant to be judged:
Not by the color of our skin
By the straightness of our teeth
Or by any other defining characteristic

In reality,
We were given
The gift of sight
So we could see beyond
The pretentious falsehood of “looks”
And befriend a person
Treating them equally
And at last noticing
Their selfless acts of kindness
And their love
For others.

About the Author

Fifteen-year-old Elise Baldemore is from Mesa, Arizona where she attends Desert Ridge High school. She has been writing poetry on and off again for the last three years. It makes her feel deeply connected to herself.