Mirror, Mirror

• Paul Shim, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2011

I stare at her curiously and she stares right back
Her eyes are so sad, joy is something they lack
I try to please her, so I place ribbons in her hair
Yet she still looks so sad, sitting still in her chair
To see her eyes, oh so sad, I really cannot bear
Nothing makes her smile, really nothing at all
She's gotten up a few times, only to sadly fall
I've realised, what she needs is real pleasure
The pure kind, the real kind, in drastic measure
So I leave her behind, go outside for fresh air
I wander through the streets, without a care
Then at dusk I come back, to see her again
When I search for her I think she's gone, then
I realise, I don't need her to tell me she am sad
I don't need her to tell me that what she does is bad
How I am is perfectly fine, and I like it that way
Mirror, mirror, do be quiet, I like it my way!