Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Whose fallen image do you befall?

Two green stained windows with
Hazel in the center do thee stare.
And gently do the soft black curtains
Cover with care.

Surrounded by rosy pale walls
Leading down to the gentle pink
Cushions at the end of the hall.

Thy auburn shadows sometimes pass
With gleaming beams of sunshine
That peak through the glass.

The windows and the cushions
Are much like a shell
For behind them are many stories that
They could tell.

If one is willing to look behind these
Windows and cushions shells
You may be surprised
By what you will entail.

All these things could be used to
Describe the image of me that you see.

And so oh mirror, mirror on the wall,
The image that you see before you
Is not really the image of me at all.