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The first time they changed her,
She was only eight, looking for approval.
He liked music, so she learned songs,
And hummed the melody to every album he played.
She looked into the mirror,
And saw a face full of hope staring back.
And even though it was different,
She thought he might like what he saw.
The second time they changed her,
She started middle school, terrified of what might come.
They told her to smile all the time,
So she sat there, a smile plastered on her petrified face.
And when she looked into the mirror,
She saw a fake, staring, mocking her.
But she thought, maybe this was what it was supposed to look like,
And she silently walked away.
The third time they changed her,
She had taken up writing, so full of words.
But they said she had to focus on other things,
So she put the paper away.
This time she avoided the mirror,
For she knew she would not like the piercing eyes,
Of this person she used to know,
Of this person she wished she could be.
The fourth time they changed her,
They told her she thought too much about herself.
And even though she constantly tried to help people,
She took their words for fact, biting her tongue.
She walked up to the mirror curiously,
And found she had lost something in her eyes.
A light was gone, hope was lost,
And she wondered if it was supposed to be this way.
The fifth time they changed her,
They had mocked her, time and time again.
And she felt the anger boil for what she'd become,
Their own little slave.
Her friends told her to look into a mirror.
She needed to fix her hair.
But instead, she only saw half of who she used to be,
And hated who she had become.
The last time they changed her,
They ripped away her heart.
She barely noticed the emptiness,
For she'd sold her soul long ago.
She lifted her eyes to the mirror in her bedroom,
But found nothing staring back at her.
They'd stripped every last part of her away.
So she closed her eyes, willing the darkness to let her vanish forever.
The first and only time she changed them,
Was when they found her, cold and dead in her room.
She left no note, showed no signs that she'd cared at all,
About them, or anyone for that matter.
The day of her funeral, it rained,
Droplets so large, it looked like God himself mourned.
They went up to give the Eulogy, but couldn't find words to say,
For they finally realized she'd been dead all along.