The real me

Look at the mirror!

What do you see?

A perfectly happy woman

Smiling at me

Her skin is flawless

Her hair well kempt

Her clothes firmly ironed

To the very last dent

If you look closer

Beyond the mirrored mask

A very fragile woman

With a heart made of glass

Her skin flawed.

Her hair disheveled

A prisoner of her own past

Who dreams shriveled

She knows no joy

She feels no pain

Her lips painted with smiles

Wrapped in golden chains

Her mask serves well

To restrain her pain

Of unfulfilled desires

and dreams constrained.