PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

As I look into the mirror at my "less-than perfect" figure

and my cream colored skin,  

I have to wonder.

Is this person really me?



Sun kissed brown hair,  

and pink tinted checks.

Gives the illusion that I am the ideal southern belle,

filled to the brink with confederate pride.



  But a Scarlet O'Herea, I am not.

My words taste of fire and ash,

not the distinguished flavor of sweet honey and sugar.



My glacier blue eyes and my chewed-red lips,

Tell the story of my annoyance towards the reflective piece of glass.

And the mirror itself simply  tells me of my

disinclination to put make up on.

I don't want my natural beauty

to be hidden beneath

a coat of high priced concealer and lipstick





   My fair, almost clear, complexion

and my unsatisfied half smile stare back at me.

  And the word erroneous makes it way to my lips.

Who is this person?



I would gladly shatter this piece of polished pane

But my superstitious mind prevents me from doing so.

Also my vain fascination with beauty.



Lifting a shacking hand to brush the hair away from my face,

I realize something as I peer into the looking glass.

   This really is me.