Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
I have a burning question.
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Answer without discretion.
The truth is, that it’s NOT you,
And it never will be.
No matter what you try to change or do,
You’ll never meet my standard of beauty.
If you try, I’m sure you’ll fail,
Because it’s ever changing,
Forevermore I’ll watch you flail,
Without ever escaping.
For I’m the distorted mirror,
You seek me out for truth without ever seeing clearer.
I’ll take your reflection,
Tear it down, pick it apart,
Compare it to false perfection,
And then I’ll spit it out.
An image, that is not you,
It’s all filled with self-doubt,
It’s been warped, and contorted too,
You’d wish you’d never sought.
You’ll never flee the darkness,
You’ll keep on coming back
All you’ll do is second guess,
And though I’m made of glass, you’ll be the one to crack.
Maybe it’s time to try and finally break free…
From this false, fabricated, sense of reality,
It’s time to wake up,
To open your eyes,
That the term beauty was not meant to symbolize,
A single specific image,
A mold, without imperfections,
Beauty is much more than that,
It is a concept that is hard to understand,
For generations who grew up looking at “beauty” on a screen,
Where only a certain preset is deemed of value and pristine,
Is that life is beautiful,
There is beauty in nature,
In the green of the leaves,
In the rush of the water,
And the sway of the trees,
There is beauty in daily life,
In the most ordinary things,
In a cup of tea, a book you love, the surprises life brings,
It is found in raw emotions,
In family and friends,
In one’s scars and imperfections,
Beauty is everywhere,
So take the time to take it in,
To tell yourself you are beautiful and enough,
For the journey you have been through, despite it being rough,
For the scars you have earned along the way,
For the way you shine so bright,
Take the time to remind others,
That beauty is everywhere,
And when you take the time to unlearn and relearn,
You’ll see just how much there is to gain.
Why I wrote this piece:
What is beauty? What does it mean to be beautiful? What does someone who is beautiful look like? These are the questions I find myself pondering quite often these days, and every time, I am scared at how narrow-minded and subjective my answers are. I am revolted at myself, but it’s not my fault; it’s the media’s. Media has skewed our perception of beauty and it’s hard to tune the media out. However, with a little bit of effort, it is possible to break free and understand and appreciate beauty for what it really is. I wrote this poem to reflect this very notion. I wanted the first part of the poem to feel constricted and closed-off, just like the unrealistic standards created by media. The second part is meant to feel liberating, like a breath of fresh air after you finally realize what the term beauty means.