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Mirror
Mirror can I ask you a question
Why is it that I can’t see an image?
Why can’t I see my reflection, why don’t I see what every one else does?
Am I blind? Or do I choose not to see.
But then again mirror you can’t answer me
And your silence hurts
It hurts to know your magic isn’t real
That im just going to have to deal
With the frustration of defending who I am
Defending the person I see
Because mirror I know that person is me.
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