Mirror

Mirror, Oh! mirror on the wall She used to see you, since she was small You still look shiny and limpid The same glit edged And placid The little sweet Lassie is now misplaced That pure smile of hers has escaped... Now she lies On the Devanport Always weary and in dort Tired of the conjectures of the society Tears rolling down her cheek in anxiety Her strikingly handle eyes Has swapped with the deep eyebags that lies But it’s not the true self of hers She is actually as the blossom of furze The one with tender soul and heart The most beautiful example of God’s art...