March 9, 2009
I hate the thing that hangs in the bathroom,
Always there in front of me,
Some call it a great invention,
Though I must say I disagree.

They tell me that I'm pretty,
That I'm tall and that I'm thin,
They say my nails are long,
That I've got hair straight as a pin.

But when I walk in the bathroom,
See that girl looking at me,
I want to cry,
Because I don't see someone pretty.

I should believe what they say,
Somewhere I know it's true,
But I notice every flaw,
And I don't know what to do.

She is sad and scared,
But wants to be strong, I can see,
No one will reach out to her,
Someone please help me.

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