deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
She stares at her reflection
Contemplating this new rejection
She’s always searching for perfection
Without ever connecting
Mascara runs, blackened tears
The culmination of all her fears
“You’re not enough” is all she hears
As cracks in her façade appear
Make-up for a masquerade
She tells herself it’s not about getting laid
She just wants to make one stay
Before she grows old and gray
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Another day, another lie
Deep in mourning, but she won’t cry
Suppressing every question, why?
She wants to give up on love and life
Another man in her bed
Another man she won’t wed
The shame in her sinks like lead
It’s a lonely path she treads
Always ready with a smile
Hiding that this game’s a trial
Tells herself, she’ll give up… in a while
Shattered dreams of a rosie aisle
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Beauty is all she ever wanted
Super model magazines leaver her haunted
Memories of a childhood, taunted
Searching for a reason leaves her daunted
All her friends think she’d great
And she suffers through another date
Her heart padlocked behind a wrought iron gate
She’s lost herself, ‘til there’s only hate
She’s tired of the dating game
The conversation’s always the same
“Hi. How are you? What a pretty name…”
The monotony’s driving her insane
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Deep down she just wants to feel
Something true and something real
While she pretends singledom isn’t a big deal
And the fissures inside refuse to heal
She wants a prince to whisk her away
Like she’s a damsel in distress that needs to be saved
Not locked in a tower, but a suburban cave
Porch light on, as if to show him the way
She knows that life’s not a fairytale
She’ll have no kids, to whom a romance she can regale
In the mirror her face is drawn and pale
And this loveless life, feels like gaol
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
© Indie Adams 2011
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
She stares at her reflection
Contemplating this new rejection
She’s always searching for perfection
Without ever connecting
Mascara runs, blackened tears
The culmination of all her fears
“You’re not enough” is all she hears
As cracks in her façade appear
Make-up for a masquerade
She tells herself it’s not about getting laid
She just wants to make one stay
Before she grows old and gray
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Another day, another lie
Deep in mourning, but she won’t cry
Suppressing every question, why?
She wants to give up on love and life
Another man in her bed
Another man she won’t wed
The shame in her sinks like lead
It’s a lonely path she treads
Always ready with a smile
Hiding that this game’s a trial
Tells herself, she’ll give up… in a while
Shattered dreams of a rosie aisle
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Beauty is all she ever wanted
Super model magazines leaver her haunted
Memories of a childhood, taunted
Searching for a reason leaves her daunted
All her friends think she’d great
And she suffers through another date
Her heart padlocked behind a wrought iron gate
She’s lost herself, ‘til there’s only hate
She’s tired of the dating game
The conversation’s always the same
“Hi. How are you? What a pretty name…”
The monotony’s driving her insane
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
Deep down she just wants to feel
Something true and something real
While she pretends singledom isn’t a big deal
And the fissures inside refuse to heal
She wants a prince to whisk her away
Like she’s a damsel in distress that needs to be saved
Not locked in a tower, but a suburban cave
Porch light on, as if to show him the way
She knows that life’s not a fairytale
She’ll have no kids, to whom a romance she can regale
In the mirror her face is drawn and pale
And this loveless life, feels like gaol
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me, not me…
© Indie Adams 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7
reading list entries 3
comments 8
reads 1317
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.