Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who’s the most beautiful of them all?
The mirror ripples, rumbles, and shakes,
Nearly making the earth quake,
Instantly its stops,
Bringing up an figment from bottom to top,
Of Me

‘Mirror this is wrong; it can’t be,’
The mirror bellows, ‘Of course it is I’m always right,’
I close the armoire to block off the light,
That Reflects

My reflection,
‘You lie; it’s an illusion, an undoubted deception,’
I scream,
Tears overflow and down my cheek they stream,
‘She’s beautiful,’ I cry,
‘Is it really true?’ I sigh,
Opening the armoire once more,
I see a girl I’d never seen before,
Bold, Beautiful, Black and

Full Of Me.