Reflection

The reflection in the mirror, is as
Beguiling as a distorted image at a
Carnival—for the image I see is not
The same image gazing back at me.

There is no beauty on the surface,
Like a flower in full bloom.
The petals once lively and vibrant,
Are now dull, lifeless, and lost.

The longing to be meager,
Feasts away at my thoughts.
Like a swift cheetah sprinting the
Grasslands after its prey.

The burden to conform, relies
Heavily on the reflections seen
On the outside—when the only
Reflection worthy, is deep within.